I'll Try To Change
by castielsbee
Summary: Destiel High School AU: Castiel is bullied, alone, and broken. He resumes a cold attitude towards those around him, and they accept it without a care. What happens when Dean Winchester tries to break past Castiel's barrier? Will Castiel let him in? Or will he push his guardian angel away? Rated T for now but will soon go up to M for sexual content.
1. I'm Not Ready

**So I know this idea has been done plenty of times before but I promise I'm going to make this as unique as i can so that you all can enjoy it and read something new :) I really hope you give this story a chance, because i am quite excited to write it. **

**Thankyou, and enjoy!**

* * *

Castiel didn't get a wink of sleep last night. The weekend was over, and that meant that he had to go back. He had been up all night, stomach churning with apprehension at the thought of what awaited him. He wanted so badly to call in sick and curl up in his bed, nestled under the sheets. Maybe if he wound himself up into a tight enough ball he'd disappear forever.

But he knew what his father would do if he were to even try and pull through with faking sick. Castiel's father didn't let him skip school when he was sick with bronchitis back during his freshman year. There was no way he'd be able to stay home just because he wanted to.

So the teen mustered up the courage to slip out of his bed and head to the shower. He stripped gingerly out of his clothes, and as he stepped under the steaming shower head he felt the torn up flesh of his arms cry out in protest. Last night had been particularly difficult for him in the emotional department, and the skin of his arms had taken most of the blow. The fresh cuts were swollen with irritation and the little amount of scabs that had begun to form were now gone and washed away, reopening the thin (yet deep) wounds.

Castiel quickly finished his shower and stepped out, drying himself then slipping on one of his many long-sleeves and dark jeans. Wiping off the steam on the mirror, the teen gazed at his pale complexion. Tired blue eyes gazed back at him, underlined by purplish bags from lack of sleep. His skin was paler than normal from his lack of sleep last night, and Castiel sighed, running hands down his face as if to wipe off the flaws he couldn't help but dwell over. The young boy ran fingers through his damp hair in frustration, messing it up with his fingers as he exhaled and tried to relax his tense muscles.

Deciding against looking at his reflection again, Castiel brushed his teeth and then left the bathroom, putting on his jacket and slinging his backpack onto his shoulders as he left his room as quietly as he could.

When Castiel got to the living room he silently thanked God that his father was passed out on the couch. With his dad asleep, the teen could actually pack a lunch. So he made himself a sandwich and threw in an apple into the plastic grocery bag, along with a bottle of water. He did all of this as quietly as he could, so as not to wake up his father. After putting his lunch into his backpack and grabbing a granola bar, Castiel slipped out of the house and made his trek to school.

He couldn't feel less ready.

* * *

"Sammy! Hurry up or I'm leavin' without ya!" Dean called out to his little brother as he munched on another piece of bacon and downed the last of his coffee. It was their first day at their new school and they were already going to be late. Normally, Dean didn't give a damn how late he was to school. But Sam was finishing his last year of middle school, and he took his studies very seriously. So Dean tried to somewhat respect that.

They were always moving around due to their dad's job as a private investigator. After about their tenth time moving (back when Dean was thirteen) Dean learned not to worry too much about making good impressions at schools. He did his homework, kept good grades, and he made sure his GPA stayed steady so he could one day join his dad in his work field. That was Dean's plan. And he had stuck to that plan as long as he could remember. So normally the pattern at the schools he attended went something like this:

-teachers didn't like him, but normally didn't bother him too much because he kept decent grades

-students always seemed to like him and didn't give him trouble and,

-Dean would find himself moving a few months (or a year, the longest) later

That was it. No attachments, no worries, and the opportunity at a fresh new start always presented itself.

Sam walked into the kitchen and grabbed the last three strips of bacon. "You wouldn't leave without me," Sam pointed out with a mouthful of bacon. "Dad would kill you," he said with a smirk.

Dean shrugged and returned Sam's sarcastic smile. "Dad isn't here, Sammy. Now come on, short stuff, let's get a move on," Dean ordered as he headed out the door, followed by his brother (who gave Dean his signature eye roll). They sat down in the sleek black '67 impala (otherwise known as "Baby"), Dean's most prized possession. Dean started up the car and made his way to Sammy's middle school (which was across the road from his high school), blasting Led Zeppelin as he cruised down the road.

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes again. "Don't you think it's a bit early for... this?" Sam asked, gesturing towards the cassette player.

Dean raised the volume in response. "It's never too early for Zeppelin," Dean replied, flashing his brother a winning smile. "So, Sammy, you ready?" Dean asked, referring to starting a new school. Sam was usually nervous on his first day, and he never enjoyed moving. Every time they had to leave Sam would put up a fight, asking why they couldn't stay. He usually just got too attached. He made friends and he impressed the teachers. Dean was pretty sure the kid couldn't help it, though. He was naturally charming to those around him. He was a smart kid and he always involved himself as much as he could in school. Sam would join clubs and academic groups and he'd make tons of friends. Dean made a lot of friends himself, but he never grew attached to them like Sam did.

Sammy laid his head back against the passenger seat and closed his eyes. "I'm ready, I guess. I just wish we didn't have to leave Chicago. It was the one nice city we ever lived in," Sam reminisced. He opened his eyes and gazed out the window. "Now we're in this crap town."

"Alright, alright, that's enough Donnie Darko, Lawrence isn't that bad. Cheer up, you always do well in school. What's wrong with a new experience?" Dean asked. He knew the answer, though. They had this talk every time they were about to start at a new school.

"I don't want a new experience, Dean," Sam whined. "I just want to settle down. I want a place we can call our home! I don't want any more condos and motels and suitcases filling the rooms we stay in! I just..." Sam let out a frustrated sigh. "Whatever. It doesn't change anything."

The rest of the drive went in silence.

* * *

**So this was kinda a prologue to the story n_n just introducing characters and placing the setting. New chapter will be out very soon! **

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	2. You're Just Like the Others

Castiel managed to make it to homeroom without any trouble from Alastair, his regular bully. Maybe that was a sign things would go well today, Castiel thought to himself sarcastically as he sat in his usual seat in the back, avoiding the gazes and laughing whispers from those around him. The teen sank into his seat and pulled out a book, putting it in front of his face as he tried to focus on it and block out the world. It was _The Giver,_ today. Castiel had read this book back when he was twelve, and it was his favorite. He always carried it around with him. It was kind of like a comfort object for when Castiel was feeling his worse.

Just as he had gotten into the book, his homeroom teacher spoke up and Castiel resisted the urge to look up and see what he had to say. Stay invisible, stay invisible, stay invisible-

"Listen up, everybody. Come on, quiet down. We have a new student. Why don't you introduce yourself Mr.-"

"Dean. Dean Winchester," the student interrupted, earning a couple of giggles from the girls in the class. Castiel couldn't help but look up to see who the owner of the smooth, enchanting voice belonged to. His eyes landed on a boy with startling green eyes and dirty blond hair that was messily spiked up in a cool and casual fashion. He was definitely handsome, Castiel noted. He'd fit in just fine.

"Right," Mr. Dawson said slowly. "Well, take a seat wherever you'd like, Mr. Winchester. There's no kind of seating order."

With a nod, Dean walked over to the empty seat next to Gordon, another one of the bullies that loved to harass Castiel. The two began chatting, and soon Lisa (a cheerleader that normally encouraged Alastair's bullying) joined them, flirting with Dean who automatically flirted back, throwing her a brilliant white-toothed smile. Castiel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Great, there'd be a new addition to his enemies. With a sigh, the dark-haired teen buried his face back into his book and forced himself not to let his gaze wander to the new student.

Soon the bell rang and Castiel stayed in his seat as long as he could in order to avoid running into Alastair in the hallways. Luck was on his side when he made it to English in one piece, although he was a few minutes late. Mrs. Madison didn't mind, though. She just threw Castiel a knowing glance and a smile, nodding towards his seat. Mrs. Madison was Castiel's only friend, if he were to be completely honest. She wasn't like the other teachers, who just dismissed Castiel's bruises and black eyes. She cared about him and she always tried to reach out to him. Of course, Castiel denied her acts of kindness, always insisting that he was indeed fine. He couldn't afford attachment. Because he knew he'd always end up alone.

Castiel took his usual seat in the back of the classroom, slipping off his jacket and wiping off the water someone had spilled onto the plastic chair with the blue cloth before sitting down. This happened every day, and quite frankly it became a routine of his. The bullying didn't even phase him, anymore.

Pulling out his copy of Shakespeare's _Julius Ceasar_, Castiel got to reading. It was his junior year at Lawrence High, and that meant they would be studying British Literature. Brit. Lit. was Castiel's favorite subject, because it had all of his favorite authors and poets such as Shelley, Shakespeare, Dickens, and his absolute favorite:Tennyson. He enjoyed Ms. Madison's lectures the most of all his teachers, and he tried not to let the bullying students put him through ruin his time in this class.

Just as the class started and the teacher had pulled out her copy of _Julius Ceasar_, Dean Winchester hustled into the room, looking around confusedly.

Mrs. Madison put her book down and gazed at Dean pointedly. "Yes, can I help you?"

Dean looked at her and gave an apologetic smile. "Is this room D117? Some of the rooms don't have numbers and I kinda got lost..." he mumbled.

Mrs. Madison raised her head and looked at her attendance board. "You must be Dean. Well, you're in the right place, Mr. Winchester. Take a seat, please," she ordered.

Excited whispers instantly filled the room.

Dean obliged, throwing a smile to Lisa, who waved at him from her seat in the front of the classroom. Lucky for Castiel, the only empty seat was next to his own. He suppressed the urge to groan out loud. His day had just taken a turn for the worse.

Alright, Castiel, all you have to do is be invisible. He won't bother you if you ignore him. Ignore him and read and blend in and-

"Hey," a familiar smooth voice greeted. Castiel froze, his shoulders drawn together as he hesitantly looked over to his left where Dean was seated. The boy gave him a charming smile. "I guess we're gonna be partners," Dean spoke, gesturing to the board where some page numbers were written down and questions were scrawled for the class to answer. Castiel looked around him, and saw that everybody was paired up with the person next to them.

Oh, no.

Noting that Castiel wasn't going to respond, Dean shifted slightly in his seat. "Uh, I'm-"

"Dean," Castiel muttered, locking eyes with the boy. "Dean Winchester," Castiel spoke, then automatically noticed the confused look on the boy's face. "You were in my homeroom," Castiel added quickly, feeling a blush crawl onto his cheeks as he flipped to the written page number in his book.

After a few seconds of silence, Dean cleared his throat. "So, uhm, what's your name?" He asked, trying to regain his cool and calm facade.

Castiel sighed as he pulled out his notebook. "Castiel," he answered without looking up. Glancing at Dean's empty desk, he spoke again. "You are going to need your book if you plan on attempting to answer these questions."

Dean gave a laid back smile, not at all insulted by Castiel's crudeness. "I don't have the book. Mind if I share?" He asked.

Castiel glanced at the new student, taking in his expression. He didn't seem particularly threatening, but Castiel wasn't going to let his guard down so easily. He nodded and placed the book on the left side of his desk, where Dean would have easy access to it.

Dean scooted his desk over to Castiel and grabbed Castiel's notebook (which was sitting on the right side of Castiel's desk), pulling out a pen from the pocket of his leather jacket. The dark-haired teen was shocked by Dean's forwardness, and couldn't help but note the musky and enticing scent that invaded his senses when the blond boy reached over to grab Castiel's notebook. Momentarily dazed, Castiel blinked. "What are you-"

"Question number one: 'What did the Soothsayer say to Caesar?' The answer is, of course, 'beware the ides of March'," Dean spoke as he scrawled the question and answer onto Castiel's notebook.

Castiel craned his neck to see Dean's writing, which was messy but very beautiful. Almost like cursive, it was slanted and italicized in a carefree way. Licking his lips, Castiel spoke again. "Uhm, you don't have to answer the questions. I can take care of it," he offered. Normally when he was partnered up with people they either ridiculed him and forced him into doing the work or they'd flat out ignore him and he'd eventually stop trying to gain a response out of them and do the work himself, writing both their names at the end. The latter was normally with girls. Only the guys really bullied him. Girls just didn't really want to be seen talking to him.

"I don't mind," Dean answered, giving Castiel an honest smile. "I already read this book in my last school. Well, we watched the movie more than read, but I read it when I had the time at home."

Castiel's eyebrows drew together in a confused expression. Dean was not at all like what he expected. _But that doesn't mean he won't be later on_, a voice in his head reminded him. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Castiel merely nodded.

Dean continued to answer questions, turning to Castiel for confirmation every now and then. In seven minutes total, they were finished answering all twenty questions. Dean wrote his name on top of the sheet of paper, then turned to Castiel. "How do you spell your name?" He asked.

"C-a-s-t-i-e-l," Castiel answered him quickly. Dean scrawled it down.

"Last name?" He asked innocently.

"Novak. N-o-v-a-k."

Castiel felt a strange flutter in his chest at the sight of his name scribbled in Dean's handwriting.

"So, Castiel," Dean experimented with the name. "I've never heard that name, before. What does it mean?" Dean asked as he ripped out the notebook paper and handed the teen back his blue-covered, old and worn notebook.

Castiel took it and put it in his backpack. "I'll turn it in," he answered, purposefully avoiding Dean's question as he gestured to the paper. He didn't want to get close. He didn't want to get attached. It would probably be for nothing. Dean was mocking him, he was pretending to be kind to make fun of him. _Don't let yourself be fooled, Castiel__, _the teen heard his conscious remind him.

Dean blinked, then handed the paper over. "Yeah, sure. Here you go."

Castiel took it, then made a motion for Dean to move his desk back so he could get out. Dean did so, and Castiel walked to the front of the room, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Dean's behavior for him to remember to avoid the usual foot sprawled in the isle purely for the purpose of tripping him.

Castiel tripped over the foot and caught himself before he could fall, trying to regain his nonchalant posture as he placed the paper on Ms. Madison's desk, who was now standing up and telling the class to "hush up". His whole body was hot with embarrassment and he was more than sure his face was red as a beet as he listened to the lingering laughs of a few classmates. Castiel made his way back to his seat and sat down, burying his red face in his book and trying to will away the ringing in his ears.

Dean didn't bother him for the rest of the class.

* * *

Castiel grabbed his lunch bag from his locker and was about to head outside to sit in his usual spot by the trees when his locker was suddenly shut closed and he was harshly turned around and slammed against his it.

His eyes locked on Alastair's cold dark blue ones, and Castiel repressed the urge to whimper with thought of what was to come.

"Hello, Cassie," Alastair taunted, followed by the laughs of his goons, which currently included Peter, Tom, and Walter. Castiel noted the familiar faces that backed up the menacing teen, and he licked his lips.

"Leave me alone, please," Castiel spoke softly, not daring to raise his voice any louder.

"But I just wanted to catch up," Alastair replied, eyes wide with mock innocence.

Castiel took in a shuddering breath, then closed his lips into a tight line. Just let them get what they want. Get it over with, he told himself.

"Aren't really talkative today, are ya, Cassie?" Alastair asked, shoving Castiel harder against his locker. Something stirred up within Castiel, poking at his patience.

Getting agitated, now, Castiel shoved Alastair away. "_Leave. Me. Alone_," he commanded before stalking off towards the stairs, heart beating loudly in his ears. He just needed to get to his lunch spot so he could be alone and safe. He had to get away before they caught up. Just as Castiel was about to walk down to the first level of the school to get to the doors, strong hands shoved into his back, pushing him down the stairs. Castiel tumbled down, definitely bruising his rib cage and legs in his journey to the bottom of the staircase. When he reached the floor, he heard a voice call out to him among the ringing and blood pounding in his head.

"Geez, are you okay?" The voice asked.

Of course, it just _had_ to be him, Castiel thought as he saw Dean Winchester make his way over, trailed by Gordon. Castiel pushed himself up onto his arms. "I'm fine," he growled. He was lying, of course. He could already feel some of his cuts reopen and start to bleed through his long sleeves as he tried to force himself onto his wobbly feet.

"Well here, let me help you," Dean offered, putting out a hand for Castiel to grab.

"Don't worry about him, Dean," Gordon's voice rang out as Dean and Castiel were joined by Alastair and his crew. Castiel managed to get on his feet just then, backing away.

Alastair placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder, squeezing uncomfortably. "Novak's just fine, aren't you?" Alastair hissed out with a smirk at Castiel. The blue eyed boy didn't respond, giving Alastair a steely glare.

"Let's go to the lunchroom," Gordon suggested as he lead Dean away, followed shortly by Alastair and the others. Dean turned his head back once to look at Castiel before he gave in and walked away with them, if not a little unwillingly.

Despite himself, Castiel felt a pang of remorse as the little bit of hope he had smothered within him. Of course Dean was like the others. His whole charming personality was just an act. He would bully Castiel, just like everyone else.

Castiel was foolish to think otherwise.

* * *

**So the next chapter won't be up as quick. I still need to plan out exactly what pace this story is going to go, so it could take a few days or even a week or two. But when it's up, i promise it'll be worth it!**

**Please review, I love reading them and they really encourage me to write.**

**By the way, thankyou for the follows and favorites this story has already received! It means a lot!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	3. Don't Get Too Close

**Wowowow I got this up a lot sooner than I thought I would! normally at this point in a story it'd take me a long time to think up a more detailed plot. I'm just so glad it took a few days instead of a few weeks, haha.**

**Well, here you go!**

**WARNING: This chapter has abuse and self-harm, so if any of you are recovering from said things or are very prone to relapsing, please do not continue because I'd hate to be the reason for a panic attack or anything worse. Stay safe, you guys. **

* * *

When Castiel opened the front door to his home, he almost instantly sprinted back the other direction.

"Castiel!" His father's voice rung out. "Get over here, _now!_"

Feeling his heart thump rapidly and painfully against his chest and nausea start in his gut, Castiel walked into his house. Hiding from his father would only make the punishment worse, later on. He knew that for a fact. So he quickly made his way to the kitchen where his father was holding a sheet of paper in one hand and a beer in the other, his face fuming with anger as he leaned over a counter, rage tensing his broad shoulders.

"What is this?" His father asked coolly, shoving the yellowish paper right in front of Castiel's face so the teen had to blink to focus his vision on it. The boy quickly realized the problem when among the A's on his progress report, a C stood out like a sore thumb, right next to his math class.

Feeling his mouth go dry when he realized what was to come, Castiel swallowed back the large lump in his throat as his body tingled with adrenaline. "I-I'll bring it back up," he stuttered frantically. "It was just a bad test grade, I studied the wrong material and-"

"You brat, _we have a deal!_" his father yelled, reddened eyes filled with disgust and anger, cool and icy tone completely gone and replaced with one of rage. "The only reason I haven't kicked your ass out is because you are going to get _all A's_ so you can get scholarships for some fucking college that I don't have to end up paying a shit ton of _my_ hard-earned money for! I'm being fucking charitable! You should be happy I'm not going to kick you out right now!"

Before he could fully process it, his father's beer bottle was flying towards his head. Castiel dodged it, and he heard the distinct shatter of glass against wall. "I'm sorry!" Castiel cried out in fear, shaking hands covering his head as he forced himself not to close his eyes in fear that another object could be thrown at his head.

"I don't need a fucking apology," his father hissed. "You know the punishment," he reminded the Castiel as the teen got back on his wobbly feet, backing away from his father who advanced on him anyways. "Until that grade is back up to an A, you can forget about me feeding you," his father threatened.

"Dad, please, I-"

A giant fist met Castiel's cheek and with a sharp crack of pain the boy was instantly on the ground, blinking stars out of his swimming vision. "I am _not_ your father!" The taller man bellowed, and Castiel nodded frantically so as not to get hit, again. "Now go clean that mess up," His father ordered as he pointed to the shattered beer bottle.

"Yes, sir," Castiel replied as he got back up and hurried over to the kitchen to retrieve a paper towel roll and wet sponge. He busily cleaned up the spilled beer and shards of glass, slipping one of the shards into his pocket when his father wasn't looking. After cleaning up the mess, he picked up his backpack (which he had placed by the front door when he got home), went to his room, and locked the door.

Taking a deep breath, Castiel slumped onto the floor and tried to stop the tears that ached to be shed, burning at the base of his throat when Castiel thought of all the things that made him a terrible son. The voices wouldn't stop listing reasons, nagging at him about how awful he was. Castiel took a deep breath, his bottom lip quivering as he bit hard onto it and felt his nose tingle and sting, the skin of his left cheek pulsing with pain. His grade was a 79. It'd take a lot of 100's to bring it up to an A, again. And he only had half a semester left. By the start of second semester the grades would all be back up to 100s and last semester's grades would be permanent on his transcript.

Fighting back the anxiety in his chest, Castiel rubbed his eyes furiously. He slipped a hand in his pocket and fingered the sticky shard of glass that sat there. Getting back up, Castiel headed to the bathroom to clean the shard of glass. He was going to need it if he wanted to get through the night.

What did a couple more cuts matter, anyway?

* * *

"So how does pizza sound, Sammy?" Dean asked as he pulled out his cellphone, ready to dial the number for a local pizza parlor.

Sam looked up from his Biology textbook at the dining room table and snorted. "Despite the fact we've had it for the last three days, yeah- sure, pizza sounds fine," he replied with a sarcastic tone.

So an hour later Sam and Dean were dining on two large pepperoni pizzas and working on their homework. But Dean found he had a hard time concentrating. His mind was too wrapped around Castiel.

Normally when he came to a new school everybody wanted to be his friend and talk to him. Castiel seemed to almost hate Dean, and he had no idea why. The kid didn't seem like he was strange in any way; he looked normal enough to Dean. That was until they talked. Castiel talked like an old English teacher rather than a sixteen year old student. Also, Castiel seemed to ignore every attempt of Dean's small talk. It was almost as if Dean had done something wrong to the scrawny child.

But then there was Alastair. He had told Dean how he shoved Castiel down the stairs during their conversation at lunch. Dean didn't ask why and just went along with it, even throwing in a laugh for good measure. What did it matter to him if Castiel was being bullied? The dude was a jerk. He flat out ignored Dean half the time and the other half he'd throw in an insulting remark.

So why wasn't Dean mad at him?

To be honest with himself, Castiel just didn't seem that mean. It seemed more like he was defensive rather than rude. Maybe it had to do with the bullying...

Dean blinked and focused on his trigonometry. Why did he even care? It's not like he was going to grow attached to anybody, since they'd probably be moving again in a couple of months. So what if the boy he sat next to in literature had alluring, bluest-of-blue eyes that looked to be hundreds of years old and seemed to just ache for attention? So what if his surprisingly deep and gravelly voice seemed to falter and pick up with interest at one point in their conversation? So what if his messy dark hair that just seemed too damn perfect framed his innocent yet reserved young face?

Dean couldn't care less.

* * *

Castiel peeled off his shirt and inspected the large purple and yellow bruise that covered the whole entire right side of his rib cage. He smirked at it and gave a laugh that instantly hurt to do. He could barely breath, let alone laugh. It hurt his side too much. Good. He deserved it. He deserved the bullying and the bruises and the name calling. He deserved each and every scar and cut and wound he inflicted onto his arms. He deserved it all.

It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault.

Castiel dragged the jagged glass across his arm one more time, holding back a whimper before tossing it into a bathroom drawer along with his razor blade. Leaning over the sink counter, the young boy resisted the urge to pass out as he hissed in pain. His head was dizzy from the punch and he could feel a migraine coming on. He was pretty sure he hit his head when he fell down the stairs at school. Castiel wearily lifted his head to look at his reflection in the mirror; his red arms stood out terribly on his pale skin, swollen and bleeding bright red blood. Driving his attention away from his arms, Castiel looked at his face in the mirror. His left cheek was already starting to bruise where his dad had punched him, the bruise covering the whole of his cheek and making its way to settle right beneath Castiel's eye. Not only was there a nasty looking bruise, but the skin was split over his cheekbone, as well, cut by the force of his father's knuckles pressing skin against bone. It was extremely sore and it hurt to open his mouth or use any kind of facial muscle. But, strangely, Castiel felt that familiar enjoyment at the pain, deep within his stomach. No matter how much he despised being bullied by his peers and abused by his father, he couldn't help but feel as if he deserved it.

It was all his fault.

Choking back a sob, Castiel walked out of the bathroom and to his room to finish his homework.

It was all his fault.

* * *

Castiel had wrapped up his arms, today. He didn't want a repeat of yesterday in case Alastair decided to shove him around some more. After his cuts reopened he had to spend most of lunch trying to stop the bleeding. He'd have to stop cutting for a couple of days to let them heal.

When Castiel walked into homeroom he saw Dean already chatting up Gordon, laughing cheerily at something they were talking about. He made his way to his seat and sank in it, trying to ignore the two girls who pointed at him and whispered. Thankfully, no one else seemed to take note of the bruise on his cheek. It was probably because the homeroom was too busy paying attention to Mr. Dawson's announcement.

"Track-and-field tryouts will be after school today at the football field for anybody who's interested," he drawled on as he pulled out his attendance board. Castiel felt a pang of sadness in his gut. Before the accident, Castiel used to go running all the time. He'd always beg his mother to let him go to public school so he could try out for the team.

He never got to do that, in the end.

Castiel swallowed back the sob he felt form in his throat and waited in his seat after the bell rang again, taking his time to gather up his things before heading out into the halls.

He wasn't so lucky, this time.

Alastair caught him in the halls and pushed him into a locker, making Castiel drop all his books he held in his arms. Castiel immediately went on his knees to gather all of his things, ignoring Alastair and his gang's boisterous laughter as they began to walk away.

"Geez, Castiel, you're such a clutz!" He called out, making a few people that walked by look over at the dark-haired teen and snicker, some purposefully kicking a few of his things out of reach.

Keeping his eyes on the floor, Castiel picked up the last of his things and walked off to class, unable to hold back a few tears that gathered in his eyes.

* * *

When he made it to lit. class almost ten minutes late, Castiel tried to ignore Ms. Madison's worried gaze when she caught sight of his face. But he couldn't ignore the whispering and laughing of his classmates. Those always seemed to fill his hearing. He glanced at Dean and noticed the green-eyed boy was looking at him with wide eyes

Castiel sat down in his desk, and pulled out his book, trying to focus on reading and ignore the bright green eyes that gazed at him.

"I'm going to pass out a packet that I want you all to work on with your partners from yesterday," Castiel heard Ms. Madison say. "I want you all to have it turned in by Friday this week," she instructed, making Castiel's heart stop.

No. No, no, no, no-

Dean's desk scooted over to Castiel's as he gave him a small smile, lifting up his packet. "Hey, partner," he greeted. Castiel ignored him and grabbed his packet from the floor when the girl sitting in front of him tossed it there. When he looked back at Dean he was shocked to see him giving the back of the girl's head a dirty look.

Shaking his head and pulling out a pencil from his bag, Castiel began working. "If we work on this fast we can finish it early and then you won't have to spend the week working with me," Castiel spoke quickly, refusing to look at what expression Dean would have on his face.

"I don't mind working with you," Dean replied, making Castiel look over at him involuntarily.

Their eyes met, and they stared at each other for ten seconds, just gazing into each other's eyes, blue meeting green. Clearing his throat, Castiel looked back at his packet. "Uhm, the answer for question number one is choice letter B," he spoke, circling the choice option.

Dean was silent for a few minutes.

A few minutes is the key phrase, here.

"So, uhm, Castiel," Dean began, making the dark-haired teen suppress the urge to sigh irritably. "Did... did that bruise on your cheek happen because of Alastair?" He asked hesitantly, his shy tone obviously completely foreign and new to him. "I- uhm, he told me what he did... with the stairs-"

"No, it was not him. May we please just work?" Castiel interrupted, turning to look sternly into Dean's eyes.

Dean nodded and looked back down at his packet. "Then who did it?" He asked, looking back up at Castiel. "Was it Gordon? I can tell them to lay off-"

"It was not any of them," Castiel hissed. Obviously Dean wasn't going to give up until he got some kind of answer. "I ran into a pole, alright? Now could you please focus?"

Closing his lips into a tight line, Dean went back to work.

That was the last conversation they'd have, for a while.

* * *

At the end of class, just as Castiel was about to walk out the door Ms. Madison called him over. He obliged, feeling his muscles tighten with anxiety. Why did she have to care? _Why can't she just leave me be?_ He couldn't help but think as he walked over to her.

"Castiel," she whispered once the room was empty. She reached out a hand to his cheek, but stopped herself, putting her hand over her heart. "Honey, who did it?" She asked. "I know you don't like to tell, but I could have whoever did it suspended and you wouldn't have to-"

"It was not a student," Castiel mumbled, looking at the ground, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes.

Ms. Madison understood. "Your father," she breathed out. It was more of a statement than a question.

Castiel licked his lips, then drew them into a tight line as he looked off to the side, tears blurring his vision. He let out a breathy laugh, a bitter smile stretching his lips. "I do not mean to offend you, Ms. Madison, but I am not in need of a counselor," Castiel informed her, locking eyes with her as he tried (and failed) to keep a stony expression. A few tears ran down his face, giving him away. Castiel resisted the urge to wipe them away.

Ms. Madison stepped towards him. "Castiel, if someone is hurting you, you need to get some help. If not from me, then from _someone_," the teacher pleaded. "You are worth more than this. Don't let anybody make you feel otherwise!"

Looking down, Castiel took a deep breath. It was silent for a moment. "Ms. Madison, I will be late for trigonometry," Castiel whispered.

His teacher crossed her arms and let out a huff. "Of course. I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow, Castiel," she spoke, dismissing him.

The blue-eyed boy walked out of the room, letting a few more tears shed before he wiped them away.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Castiel, but I cannot assign extra credit," Mrs. Bates spoke. "If I were to grant you extra credit, then I'd have to give it to every other student, as well," the trigonometry teacher explained. At the hopeless look in Castiel's eyes, she leaned forward on her desk. "Just do well on the test. It's two weeks away, so you'll have plenty of time to prepare yourself. You already do all your homework and classwork, and you do fine on your quizzes, so those averages don't need to be pushed up all that much. You were scoring B's on your tests, which was what made your average an eighty-two. It was just that last test... If you need testing help, then just see me after school on Wednesdays and Thursdays," Mrs. Bates advised.

"Mrs. Bates, you do not understand," Castiel spoke urgently, suppressing the tears in his throat and the burning gnawing of his stomach. "I _need_ my grade up. I need it up as soon as possible."

The gray-haired teacher just sighed. "Just do well on the next few tests, Castiel. "I'm sure you can raise your average back up to a B before the semester is over," she assured.

"I cannot end this semester with a B," Castiel replied, feeling panic climb its way up his throat. "I must have an A... _please_," Castiel begged. He wished he could explain it to her. He wished he could tell her that if he doesn't get his grade up to an A, he will most likely starve and become homeless.

The math teacher raised her head and gazed at Castiel sternly. "I'm sorry, Castiel," she apologized again. "Just do your best."

Biting his lower lip, Castiel nodded. "Yes. Alright, I will. I am sorry to have wasted your time," Castiel apologized, walking out of the room quickly. Two weeks... he could do that. He could try.

Hopefully he'd starve to death before the semester was over.

* * *

Gym class was hard enough for Castiel before, but now it was nearly impossible. First off, Dean was in that class, so that added to the giant group of people who enjoyed to harass Castiel for changing out in the security of the showers instead of the open with the other guys. Well... Dean didn't really harass Castiel as much as go along with it and throw in a few laughs. Second, Castiel was only on his first day of no food and he was _starving_. The peanut butter sandwich and apple he packed for himself yesterday seemed like heaven, now. Honestly, he'd eat anything.

It's been a good amount of time since he'd had the no food punishment, Castiel thought to himself as he jogged on the track, listening to the sound of Coach Durley yelling at the girls to keep up the pace and stop whining. The last time Castiel had been starved was when he had made a B in U.S. History. That time only lasted for about a week and a half, though, and once it was done Castiel hungrily indulged himself in the cheap cup ramen noodles that he had never been so grateful for, before.

It was cold now that it was the beginning of November. Leaves were starting to fall from their trees and the sky was turning gray. This made gym easier for Castiel now that he could wear his thin long sleeve shirt in comfort. He used to end up overheated and sick after gym class was over, but now he didn't have to worry about that. He could cover up his scars in peace.

A few of his classmates already aimed wrist-cutting jokes at him, but that trend died off in a couple of months, mostly because Castiel didn't fit their "emo-kid" physical description. He was quite thankful for that, because those jokes honestly made him feel like such pure rot. Nobody ever saw his cuts. They only suggested that he performed such activities. It was quite scary how right they all truly were. Castiel did not know how much longer he'd be able to take just _living_ as he walked back into the locker room, grabbing his clothes to change in the showers.

_You deserve it, you deserve it, you deserve it._

_It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault._

* * *

Dean had given up on trying to get close to Castiel, and it had only been his second day at trying. The kid was just so stubborn and so unwilling to let anybody in. It irritated Dean to the end of the earth!

But what bothered him most was the question that constantly nagged at his brain:

_Why do I care?_

Dean had never felt the need to help someone. He never needed to, because he told himself what happens to other people doesn't matter- that it wasn't his business. The only people in his life that mattered was Sammy, his dad, and Uncle Bobby. Three people. That was easy. He could take care of three people. He didn't need more than that.

So why was he trying to hard to add more to his list? Why did he feel like Castiel was different. _What made him so unique? _What on Earth made that strange blue-eyed-boy the exception?

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala as the two drove back to their condo. "You're... quiet," he noted.

Dean shrugged. "Nah, I'm just thinking, Sammy," Dean responded as he accelerated the car slightly, feeling the nagging need to go home and drink until he didn't care again. It had been a while since he had last gotten drunk, and now was the perfect time to pick it up again. There was that bottle of whiskey in the cupboard that he hid behind cereal boxes...

"Well don't think too hard. You might hurt yourself," Sam joked, earning a slap at the back of the head from Dean.

But it did the trick, and Dean was smiling again. The need to drink slowly withered away as Dean put his eyes back on the road and turned on the radio. Things were normal right now. He had Sam next to him and he was driving his Baby. Everything was alright.

* * *

Castiel's day had been awful. Last night he couldn't find _The Giver _book in his backpack, and assumed he had lost it when Alastair had knocked over his things the previous day. Now it was gone forever, and that had been enough to add three more cuts to his collection. To add onto that, Castiel had an intense panic attack that eventually led to no sleep and involved a brown paper bag to prevent oxygen poisoning. His breathing pace had been incredibly rapid throughout the panic attack, and his heart felt as if it were going to burst. Once he started to feel dizzy he grabbed his old paper bag that he used for such purposes and breathed into it until his vision stopped swimming. Then he resumed his regular curled up position on the floor in a corner of his room and sobbed relentlessly, muttering apologies to God knows what. That was about the time he retrieved his razor blade.

And now he was walking into his literature class (on time for the first time this week, although the consequence involved being tripped in the hallways and shoved into a locker), wishing to God that he could be anywhere else but _here_. Ms. Madison smiled at him and he gave her a nod as he went to his seat. He didn't bother glancing at Dean, who he could feel staring "subtly" at him.

Just as Castiel was about to take his seat, something caught his eye.

His book, undamaged and perfectly intact, sitting right on his desk.

Castiel couldn't help but let out a breath of relief as he sat down in his desk and picked up his book, feeling the paperback material with his fingertips and flipping through the pages to make sure none were missing. A small smile found its way to his face when he found everything in perfect condition, the happy gesture feeling foreign to his facial muscles. Looking up from his book, Castiel glanced to his left to see Dean looking at him. Their eyes met, and Dean turned away, looking down at his desk. No. It couldn't have been Dean. No, he was like the others.

_Right?_

It had to be Ms. Madison. She had found it on the floor and returned it to Castiel. That was what happened.

_Right?_

* * *

At the end of class, after a long and silent period of working with Dean on their packets, Castiel went to Ms. Madison's desk to thank her for returning his book.

"Hello, Castiel," Ms. Madison greeted him with a smile as she glanced at him from a stack of papers. "Do you need something?"

Castiel gave a small smile. "I'd just like to thank you for returning my book," he replied, pulling out the book from his backpack.

Ms. Madison's eyebrows furrowed with confusion as she pushed aside the papers that she was looking through to give Castiel her full attention. "Castiel, I didn't return your book," she answered.

Now it was Castiel's turn to look confused. "But it was on my desk... I don't know of anyone who would return it to me besides you," he protested, although he could think of someone who would. His brain was harshly denying that, though.

His teacher folded her hands into a steeple and leaned forward as she gazed into Castiel's eyes. "I seem to recall Mr. Winchester visiting your desk right before you came in... do you think he could have returned it to you?"

Castiel swallowed a lump in his throat. "No... no he wouldn't do that. He... he's friends with Alastair and-" Castiel cut himself off, gaze moving from Ms. Madison down to the floor as he felt his heart beat move up to his throat. "Uhm, forget it," Castiel stammered. "I'll see you tomorrow," he told her with a forced smile as he made his way out the room.

Maybe there was more to Dean Winchester than Castiel thought.

* * *

It was Castiel's third day without food, now, and he could feel the effects on his body and mind. It was getting harder to study and focus in school, but he forced himself. He needed food. He needed it so badly. His stomach cried for it and his organs clenched in protest. But, of course, Castiel had to ignore it. As he walked into British Literature, Castiel's eyes met with Dean's before he tore his gaze away, looking at the floor and stepping over the routine foot as he made his way to his desk. Castiel happened to notice that the usual water and other obstructions were not on his chair, and hadn't been for a while. He wondered if it had to do with Dean.

Dean Winchester. The strange boy was on his mind all night. Castiel had fallen asleep peacefully last night, put into a good mood with the knowledge that perhaps Dean Winchester had returned his book. That perhaps the green-eyed boy was not as bad as Castiel had predicted. All day yesterday Castiel had been thinking about Dean. He even realized that he was in a better mood, despite the pain in his hungry stomach.

For most of last night Castiel had been thinking of ways to thank Dean for returning his book. He had pictured their conversation, imagining it over and over again in his mind until he began to panic and calmed himself to prevent an anxiety attack as negative thoughts tried to ruin his good mood.

Castiel had been working so hard to keep the "what if" questions at bay. He decided to just believe that Dean had indeed returned his book, and that maybe he wasn't that bad of a guy.

So when Dean moved his desk over to Castiel's so they could work on their packet (they were on the last page), Castiel cleared his throat before speaking up.

"Thank you for returning my book," Castiel muttered loud enough so Dean could hear. When the blond boy looked up at Castiel in surprise, he felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as he tried to quiet the voice in his head that told him it wasn't Dean. "Uhm, yesterday. The book on my desk. You returned it to me, am I correct?" Castiel asked, trying his hardest to keep eye contact with Dean instead of tearing it away and muttering broken apologies.

Dean smiled and laughed slightly, looking down at his desk, almost looking embarrassed. "So you figured it out, huh?" He asked, looking back up into Castiel's eyes. "You're welcome," he replied with a smile that sent Castiel's heart fluttering for reasons he could not understand.

Castiel blinked, licking his lips before he looked down at his packet, writing down another answer. "May I ask where you found it?" He asked, glancing at Dean's desk, too afraid to look into his eyes.

"Alastair had it. He had nabbed it from the hallway or something, I don't know. But he was... uhm, well, I guess there's a note written in the book, right?" Dean asked.

Castiel's blood went ice cold, and he looked up at Dean with horrified, wide eyes. "He read the note?" Castiel asked, mouth going dry. "H-how many people saw it? Did he read it out loud?" Castiel asked, panic in his voice.

Dean's eyes went wide, his posture defensive as he studied Castiel. "Well, uhm, I don't know. I had gotten to lunch late when he was talking about it. I just heard him say something about a note," Dean reported. Castiel felt sick to his stomach, and automatically felt the need to vomit although his stomach contents were empty. "Hey, are you okay?" Dean asked, leaning forward. "Geez, you look sick, dude," Dean observed.

Castiel swallowed down the bile he felt form in his throat. "I- it is nothing. Thank you for taking it from him," Castiel thanked, again.

They didn't speak again.

* * *

**Yayyyy so next chapter Destiel will pick up. Dean will come to the rescue. **

**Just a sidenote, I deal with anxiety, depression, eating disorders, and suicidal thoughts/self harm. I have also been bullied, more of mentally rather than physically. So I am trying to make this as sensitive to the topic as I can. Please do not take any offense in any of this, because I do respect things like this and I want to one day help people struggling through these disorders, since I am about to begin studying psychology in college.**

**I just had a need to write that. So if you are offended by this story, don't read it! it's that simple. I will not tolerate rude comments, because i have a good feeling i will get a few since this story has such touchy topics. **

**Anyways, THANKYOU SO MUCH for the follows and reviews! They make me so happy, i didn't expect this story to get such positive feedback, especially not so soon into it!**

**Thanks again, and dont forget to review!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	4. Let Me In

It had been two weeks and a day since Castiel's punishment began. He had finished his packet with Dean the day after their conversation about his book, and they really haven't had another conversation since. It depressed Castiel more than he'd like to admit, because every day Castiel would walk into British Literature he'd look over at Dean, hoping the green-eyed boy would give him a smile so he could try and return it for the first time. But that never happened. They'd make eye contact and it'd break after a couple of seconds, but that was as far as communication between the two went.

Castiel's trigonometry test was tomorrow, and he was desperately studying, trying to use the last of his brain power to cram information in his mind. He needed to pass. He was so hungry that at this point he was contemplating eating leaves from a tree and grass from a field. He didn't, of course. He decided that since the rest of him was a mess he might as well keep his dignity intact.

Castiel was still cutting himself regularly to distract from the hunger. His bruise on his ribcage still ached but was healing, and the bruise on his cheek was only red now, almost completely healed. The only real problem was the hunger that he couldn't seem to do anything about. His father had locked up the food and refused to let Castiel in the kitchen.

So Castiel resumed his starvation, feeling like his stomach was starting to digest itself and his throat was opening wide- begging for food. He could feel his stomach acid burning inside of him, and Castiel tried his hardest to feed his aching body with some water from the school fountain and peppermints that he would get from teachers every now and then. His limbs were frail and weak, and quite frankly Castiel was surprised that they hadn't completely shut down yet. Perhaps it was the thought of the test he was soon to take that kept him going.

His grade was now an 82, thanks to a few pop quizzes his class had been assigned. The only way he was still doing well in school was by making up for lack of eating by excessive sleeping. Also, whenever he found himself thinking about food he instead replaced the thought with things that depressed him to the point of making him too nauseous to crave nourishment.

That only lasted for so long, though.

It was Wednesday and that meant he had to run the track in gym. Running days were Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and the rest were indoor activities. Castiel managed it the past few weeks but now it was too much.

As Castiel jogged across the track, he could already feel himself gasping for breath and swerving involuntarily towards the field inside the track. That was when everything went black, and Castiel felt a bang on the back of his head that travelled around his skull and made his ears ring.

The next thing he knew he was hearing voices.

"Novak! Novak what the hell is wrong with you?" Coach Durley yelled, his voice going from hazy echoes to sharp and loud. Castiel's eyes blinked open, the light blinding him. His vision swam, unable to focus. Two coach Durleys were currently leaned over him, inspecting him as they swam along with his vision. "Damnit, he has a concussion," the coach reported to bystanders. "Alastair, get over here!" He ordered. In less than a second Alastair was by the coach's side. "You finished your laps? Take Novak to the nurse's office," he instructed.

Alastair smiled. "I'd be glad to, Coach," he obliged, picking up Castiel and slinging his still-cut arm around his shoulder. "Let's go, Cassie," he spoke cheerily as Coach Durley began to walk away, shooing the gathering crowd and threatening them with talk of giving them all zeros for the day.

"No," Castiel murmured, blinking his eyes in his attempt to keep them open as a wave of fatigue consumed him.

"Coach! Coach, I'll take him!" Castiel heard a familiar voice volunteer. "Let me take him!"

"You've still got one lap, Winchester," the coach pointed out. "Get back to running!"

Alastair's arm tightened around Castiel's waist as he practically dragged the skinny boy out of the field and to the back of the school. "What do you say, Cassie? You wanna go to the nurse's office?" He mocked, giving a laugh.

"Let go of me," Castiel croaked, his voice hoarse. "Leave me alone," he ordered as he tried at pathetic attempts to release himself from Alastair's grasp, twisting and turning and trying not to pass out again. But he was too hungry and weak, and Alastair more than likely had a hearty lunch the period before.

"I'm just taking you to the nurse!" Alastair assured sarcastically. When they were by the dumpsters, Alastair let go of Castiel, shoving him down onto the floor where he hit the giant, garbage-filled tin boxes. "There you go! See you later, Cassie!"

And with a laugh, Alastair was gone.

Castiel tried to get up but his muscles were too weak and his head was too dizzy and _he couldn't see properly_. Everything around him was spinning, making him want to throw up. He settled with closing his eyes until his concussion settled down and he could move. It was incredibly cold outside, and Castiel had to curl into himself in the bite of the icy air to try and keep warm as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

_I hope I die here_, Castiel thought to himself. _I hope that nobody ever finds me and I just rot and die here_.

Castiel wanted nothing more than for the pain to end and relief be granted to him. His head pulsed with headache, his stomach burned with ache for food, his muscles were like jello and his cuts seemed to sting more than ever before.

_Maybe this is my last day on Earth_, Castiel mused, his thoughts jumbled in his numb brain.

"Castiel?" He heard a voice call out.

Was he imagining it? Had he finally gone insane? Or was somebody actually looking for him?

"Castiel, are you here?" The voice called out, again.

Castiel tried to moan out to the voice, tried to reach it, but suddenly everything went black.

* * *

When he woke up again it was to his name being shouted at him and his cheek being patted roughly. "Castiel! Open your eyes, damnit. Come on I need your help, here. I can't drag ya in," the rough voice ordered.

Castiel blinked his eyes open and his vision instantly focused on intense green eyes. "That's it, come on buddy. Up, now," Dean Winchester ordered, grabbing Castiel's arm and hauling him up.

Castiel whimpered in pain as Dean's hands tightened on his cut arms. "Let go, leave me alone," he couldn't help but whine as he tried to use his legs to stand up on his own so Dean would let go. But his knees buckled, which only caused Dean to tighten his grip.

"No way, you stubborn bastard. We gotta get you inside and into a jacket or something or you're gonna die out here. Come on," Dean commanded as he slung Castiel's arm around his shoulder and put a strong, warm and muscled arm around Castiel's waist, just as Alastair had done. But Dean's touch was different. It was protective and supportive and warm. It calmed Castiel and urged him to use his wobbly legs.

"There you go, good job," Dean complimented as he led Castiel into the school. "We're gonna go to the locker room and grab your things and I'm gonna take you home, okay?"

Castiel shook his head. "I cannot skip. Stop, take me to the locker room I will be alright," he murmured, using all his energy to form a coherent sentence.

"Fuck that, man, there's like one class left anyways. I couldn't leave class to get you until I got Alastair to tell me where he put you," Dean told the dark-haired boy. "You can't go to class like this anyways," Dean added when Castiel tried to argue. That shut him up. Dean was right, he was in no condition to stay.

They were in the school, now, and the warmth of it made Castiel's cold skin shiver and his bones ache. He didn't try to speak again until they reached the indoor gym, mostly because he couldn't. When they made it to the locker room, Dean sat Castiel down on the bench outside of it.

"What's your locker combination?" Dean asked as he steadied Castiel, who was blinking away sleep. Dean's hands gripped harder onto Castiel's upper arms. "Come on, man, don't pass out on me. What's your combo?"

Thinking hard, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted with the effort, Castiel searched his mind for the three numbers. It took a while. Once he thought he had the numbers they'd slip away or get jumbled up. Dean was patient, though, and gazed into Castiel's unresponsive eyes until he answered. "Two, thirteen, fourty-two," Castiel recalled.

"Alright, stay here I'm gonna grab your stuff," Dean ordered, to which Castiel nodded weakly.

Castiel leaned back on the wall the bench sat against, trying his hardest to stay conscious and not close his eyes. This had to be a dream. There was no way Dean would do all this for him. He was imagining this whole thing.

A few minutes later, Dean came out of the locker room with Castiel's clothes, backpack, and books. He slipped Castiel into his jacket and stuffed his clothes and books into his already-filled backpack, zipping it tight around the materials. He looked Castiel in the eyes and his own filled with worry. "Dude, you look awful..." he noted, making Castiel smirk humorlessly.

"Thanks," Castiel breathed out, making Dean smirk then straighten up a bit.

"Castiel, when was the last time you ate something?" Dean asked hesitantly, observing Castiel's facial features.

"Two weeks," Castiel murmured involuntarily. He couldn't help himself. His mind was too jumbled and he couldn't think straight.

Dean's eyes widened with shock as he stood up instantly and sputtered before finding words to say. "_Two weeks?_" He repeated incredulously. "Why the hell haven't you eaten anything in two fucking weeks?!" Dean exclaimed, eyes seeming angry and confused and upset all at the same time.

Castiel knew he should feel panicked and scared but for some reason he didn't. "I can't," he whispered, making Dean tense. "I'm not allowed," he admitted.

Dean's mouth opened, then closed, and then opened again, but nothing came out. Eventually, Dean licked his lips and spoke. "That's it," announced. "We're getting you three double cheeseburgers and four large fries, and you're eating _every last damn bite_, y'hear me?" Dean asked, looking Castiel in the eyes. The boy didn't respond. "_Cas_," Dean warned.

"It's Castiel," the blue-eyed boy corrected, making Dean roll his eyes before shutting them and running a hand down his face.

"Let's go. _Now_," Dean ordered.

After he had double checked that he had all of Castiel's things and Castiel had begun to warm up inside his navy blue jacket, Dean swung Castiel's bag onto his shoulders and lifted up the boy, again. Castiel stood on his feet, his arm around Dean's shoulder as he helped as much as he could to bring his limp body to Dean's sleek black car.

"You don't have to do this," Castiel muttered as Dean slipped into the driver's seat next to him.

"Do me a favor and shut up, Cas," Dean countered, making Castiel close his lips into a tight line as he looked out the window, watching the school disappear.

"Why are you helping me?" Castiel couldn't help but ask after they had been driving for a few moments. The car ride had been silent, and Castiel felt an awkward tension in the car. There wasn't even the comfort of music playing to fill the silence. And Dean seemed like a music person. It was all very strange and off-putting.

Dean didn't respond at first, and Castiel looked over at the blond boy to see if he had heard him. Castiel was starting to think that maybe he had imagined speaking when Dean finally answered him.

"Because you're different," Dean replied, advancing the car's speed as he kept his forest-green eyes on the road, his lips puckered in a serious sort of pout, like he had more to say that he wasn't saying. "Because I'm tired of seeing you treated the way you are. Nobody deserves to be pushed around like that. Not even a stubborn son of a bitch like you," Dean joked, looking over at Castiel with a humorless smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed. He was still confused as to why Dean would waste his time with him, but he decided to drop it since he was much too tired and disoriented to even care at the moment.

Eventually they pulled up into the drive-through of a fast food restaurant that Castiel didn't bother to pay attention to. The next thing he knew, Dean's hand was shaking his shoulder as he was waking him up and the car was parked in the driveway of a nice condo. "Where'm I?" Castiel slurred, blinking his eyes as he tried to stop them from blurring. He tried sitting up, but ended up just flailing awkwardly in his seat.

"My house," Dean answered as he moved his hand to push against Castiel's chest and still him. When Castiel stopped moving and calmed down the smell of burgers and fries filled Castiel's nose almost instantly. His stomach growled quite ungracefully with it's impatience, and Castiel felt his cheeks heat. Dean raised an eyebrow. "You really weren't kidding, were you? I'll be right back," He promised as he got out of the car, carrying the food inside then coming back to open the passenger seat door and haul Castiel out.

"For a skinny guy you weigh a ton, Cas," Dean commented as he hauled Castiel into the condo and shut the door behind him.

"I believe that is because I am mostly dead weight at the moment," Castiel replied sarcastically, forcing every word out, making Dean let out a breathy laugh.

"Alright, here'ya go," Dean coaxed as he helped Castiel sit down on a plush, worn out couch. Castiel's back settled against an armrest and his legs criss-crossed to keep him sitting up, although he still sagged with fatigue, gripping onto the couch to steady himself. The dark-haired boy almost instantly felt his eyes start to roll to the back of his head. "Stay awake, Cas. You gotta eat then take some medicine before I'm letting you doze off," Dean told him.

So Castiel focused on keeping his eyes open. Dean left, and just as soon he was at the couch with him, holding bags of fast food. The smell enveloped Castiel's senses, and his stomach growled again. Castiel felt his face flush again and Dean laughed. He pulled out a large cup of fries and handed one of the fried potato sticks to Castiel. "Start out small. You're body is probably going to reject food a little since it's not used to it, so the smaller you start out with the better," Dean advised.

Castiel nodded and took the fry. He already knew that, but he wasn't about to admit it and let Dean know that he's starved before. So Castiel took a bite out of the fry, feeling his stomach revolt and acid climb up his throat. Castiel must have looked sick to his stomach, because Dean leaned forward in concern. "Take it easy, Cas," he instructed. Although his body was rejecting the food, his taste buds were practically screaming with joy, and automatically he began to drool. Putting the back of his hand against his mouth, Castiel mumbled an apology as his face heated up terribly. Dean just smiled and handed Cas a napkin.

"Don't apologize, man. You haven't eaten in weeks. Go ahead, try again," Dean insisted.

So, very slowly, Cas ate the rest of the fry. It took what seemed to be five minutes just to eat it and not throw up, but Dean was patient, forest green eyes studying him concernedly. Castiel gagged occasionally, and his stomach tightened in protest whenever he tried to eat. It was the most painful thing he's done in a while. It felt as if all his insides were begging for something that they strongly rejected once it was brought to them. His body was confused and sick and Castiel honestly felt like giving up. If it hadn't been for Dean, he might have.

"Just don't think about it too much, alright?" Dean advised as he handed Cas another fry.

This time Castiel finished it in less than five minutes.

Soon, he was munching on the whole cup of fries while Dean smiled satisfyingly. When he finished it, Dean handed him another cup, which he ate faster this time. After his third large cup of fries, Dean handed him one of the three double cheeseburgers he bought. "Think you can handle this, yet?" Dean asked, eyes careful.

Castiel smiled shyly and took the burger gratefully. "Yes, I believe so," Castiel responded. He unwrapped the burger halfway and looked at it for a bit. This had to be a dream. All this food was too good and Castiel was too happy and he was sitting here in Dean's home and Castiel didn't feel the least bit like cutting. It was a happiness he hadn't felt in years.

With that thought in his mind, Castiel bit into his burger, and he felt his eyelids fall closed as he couldn't help but let out a satisfying sound. The tang of pickles and mustard filled his taste buds; the rich and savory taste of meat enveloped him; the sudden sweetness of mayonnaise, ketchup and bread soothed his hungry stomach. Castiel hadn't had anything like it in years. It had been so long since he's eaten anything besides ramen, pastas and peanut butter sandwiches, so this meat (fried in all it's unhealthy glory) was like a delicacy. Memories instantly flooded back to him. Eagerness as he held himself back from opening a paper bag filled with cheap fast food. His mother's voice happily chimed in his hearing as she told him they were almost there. The cassette player was on, playing the smooth jazz and classical music she loved ever so much. It was mostly classical music she'd listen to on these days. She loved the sound of violins softly singing, the deep echo of a strong cello. This was the music she loved to listen to on the sunsets they'd spend together. Castiel could feel the cool evening wind whipping at his face as he rolled down the window to the passenger seat of the van, even though he knew his mother protested, saying it'd ruin her hair. He never thought it did. Her hair was messy anyways; it was beautiful and long and light brown, glowing red as the setting sun would catch on it. She often just let out a fake exasperated sigh as her son would roll down the window to let in the bustling wind, drowning out the smell of burgers as the light hunger in his stomach calmed. But she was never angry with him. She loved him, her bright blue eyes proved it with the laughter wrinkles that cradles them, settling just at the start of her dark eyelashes. The smell of the fresh grass and wood chips of the park they always visited overcame him, now. Eating burgers and fries with his mother on the grass on Sunday afternoons after church, the dew seeping through his finest dress pants, the grass often staining it... Castiel instantly felt nostalgic bliss overtake him, and when he opened his eyes he felt tears gather in them. A tear ran down his cheek before he could stop it, and Castiel set the burger down to wipe at the prickling sensation in his eyes.

"Cas?" He heard Dean speak softly. "Cas, what's wrong?" He asked, his voice filled with concern that Castiel hadn't heard from another person in years (besides Ms. Madison). He felt his heart warm at the memories and at Dean's voice. For once, he didn't feel scared. He felt truly happy. And for once, these weren't tears of sadness that he cried.

Castiel offered Dean a smile. "Nothing," he managed to choke out, his gravelly voice smooth and shaky with practiced calm. "It's just..." he began as he picked up the cheeseburger and laughed. "These make me very happy," he explained, taking another bite.

Dean gave a confused smile, but he found a strange stirring in his stomach at Castiel's smile, so he let it slide. "Well I'm glad you like them," Dean replied as he handed Castiel an very large Coke. Castiel smiled and accepted it, mumbling a thank you.

"I'll pay you back, Dean," Castiel began. "I promise," he added, although he wasn't sure how he'd be able to do that, since his father wouldn't allow him to get a job.

Dean waved a hand, dismissing the comment. "Nah, don't worry about it. How about you stop ignoring me in Lit. and we call it even?" Dean suggested, making Castiel laugh with embarrassment.

"Deal," he agreed, smiling sheepishly.

Soon Castiel finished his meal (giving Dean one of the cheeseburgers and large fries, since the very-full-teen swore if he "ate any more his stomach would burst"), and when all the food was gone Dean hopped off the couch to throw away the trash, coming back with two ibuprofen tablets and a glass of water. "Here," he offered, handing them to Castiel. "To get rid of the headache and swelling that's probably goin' on inside your head," Dean explained.

Castiel nodded, and accepted the pills and water, downing them both. He instantly felt sleep make its way into his head, and he tried to keep his eyelids open. Castiel had never been this full in so long. He couldn't remember the last time that he couldn't eat another bite. Dean noticed Castiel's drowsiness and smiled. "You take a nap. I gotta go pick up Sammy," Dean spoke as he threw Castiel a pillow from an armchair. "I'll be back in a few," Dean promised as he picked up his keys from the living room table. "Try and get some rest," Dean instructed.

Castiel obliged, letting his head fall back as he sprawled out on the couch.

Sleep instantly took him.

* * *

When Dean picked up Sam, he gave him a big smile. "Hey, Sammy!" He greeted him as the younger sibling slipped into the passenger seat.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You're in a good mood," he noted as he buckled his seatbelt. "What's got you so cheerful?" Sam asked, looking at Dean with curious hazel eyes.

Dean shrugged. "Nothing, can't I be happy?" Dean retorted as he started the car and began driving them home.

Sam gave a snort. "No, that's not what I meant. It's... strange, I guess," Sam admitted, shrugging.

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's just a nice day, Sammy. C'mon, why do I need a reason to be in a good mood?" Dean answered. "Anyways," he began before Sam could respond. "I've got a friend over," Dean began to tell Sam. Friend... Castiel was his friend, right? "He's not feeling too well so I'm letting him crash on the couch for a bit," Dean explained as they pulled into their neighborhood.

The brown-haired boy raised an eyebrow. "So that's who's backpack this is," he realized as he lightly kicked the backpack on the floor of the passenger seat. "I just thought you got a new backpack. Since when do you bring friends over, anyways?" Sam asked.

"Jesus, Sam," Dean breathed out as he parked in their driveway. "I don't know, is it against the rules or something?" Dean asked, feeling irritated.

Sam held back a laugh. "Alright, alright, no need to get defensive," the younger sibling responded as he got out of the car.

They walked into the house to find Castiel fast asleep on the couch, sprawled out like a cat in sunlight, snoring lightly. Dean felt his heart beat harder, but he didn't know why.

"That him?" Sam asked as he put his backpack on the dining room table. "What's his name?"

Dean sat at the dining room table with Sam after tossing a blanket onto Cas. "His name is Castiel. He's in my lit. class," Dean explained. "He's a nerd like you, so you two will get along great," Dean said with a smirk.

Sam laughed humorlessly, then got up to go to the kitchen. "We got anything to eat? I'm starving," he stated as he searched through the freezer.

"There should be some hotpockets somewhere in there," Dean called to him distractedly as he pulled out his homework from his backpack, deciding to get to work on it.

"Dude, you got _Burger King?_"

* * *

Two hours passed while Sam and Dean studied, and soon they heard the patter of feet enter the kitchen. Dean looked up to see Castiel with a hand on one side of his face, covering one of his eyes. His messy hair stuck up everywhere and his blue sweater hung loosely on his slender frame.

Dean couldn't help but feel his breath catch in his throat. For some odd reason, he wanted so badly to run his fingers through Castiel's dark hair at that moment. Blinking, Dean shook the thought out of his head and swallowed, looking back down at his textbook as he copied vocabulary definitions for History. "How you feeling, Cas?" He asked as he glanced at the blue-eyed boy, who squinted at him and gave a soft smile.

"Better, thank you," Castiel mumbled. His gaze wandered over to Sam and his eyes widened slightly. "Oh," he gasped out, his hand falling from his face.

Sam smiled. "Hey," he greeted with a wave. "I'm Sam," he introduced himself.

"Sam's my little brother," Dean clarified.

Castiel gave a smile. "Nice to meet you, Sam," he replied, then looked down at his clothes, seeming embarrassed. He was dressed in his gym sweatshirt, a jacket, old sweatpants, and dirty sneakers. "I'm not decent," he reported shyly while looking back up apologetically.

Sam gave a laugh. "It's fine, you still dress better than Dean on his best day," Sam joked. Dean threw his pencil at him, earning a "_Hey!"_

Castiel laughed, and Dean froze for a second. It was the most genuine laugh he'd heard from Cas, yet, and it made the teen look like a completely different person. His head tilted downwards when he laughed, body bent ever so slightly forward as his blue eyes squinted and crinkled and his lips stretched wide to reveal a beautiful flawless smile. Dean felt himself blink away his shock, his heart launching itself into his throat. _What the fuck was going on his his observation skills today, damnit?_ Suddenly, Cas's phone vibrated and his smile was wiped off in an instant as he dug into his pocket, a worried expression making its way onto his face.

"Excuse me," he apologized as he left the room.

Sam looked at Dean quizzically, and the blond just shrugged. They continued on their work, but Dean tried to secretly listen to Castiel's call. All he could hear was a low muttering and a couple of "yes sirs". Who could be on the other line that could make Cas look so scared?

Castiel entered the room again, looking back to his reserved self- it made Dean's heart sink. The teen's head was tilted slightly forward with what seemed like sadness, his shoulders drooped as he gazed at the floor. "I must be heading home," Castiel told them, giving the Winchesters a small smile as he gazed up at them, big puppy-dog blue eyes meeting theirs. "Thanks for everything, Dean. I'll go retrieve my backpack from the car," Castiel told him as he turned to head out.

Dean automatically stood up. "Wait, lemme drive you, Cas," Dean offered.

Castiel looked hesitant, looking from Dean to the floor, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm alright with walking, Dean," Castiel insisted as he met Dean's eyes, honesty lacing them.

"Nuh uh, no way you're walking home when it's dark," Dean responded as he made his way to the door, reaching for the doorknob as Castiel's hand moved away. Dean pushed open the door. "Let's go," he ordered, making Castiel sigh.

He turned to give Sam a smile, "Nice meeting you," Castiel spoke.

Sam smiled back and waved a goodbye. "See ya."

* * *

When they pulled into Castiel's driveway, Dean repressed the urge to comment on it. The house was beautiful, brick, and huge. Castiel seemed to notice Dean's astonishment, because he spoke up.

"Take my word on it, it's not as beautiful on the inside as it is on the out," Castiel told him with a light laugh that Dean couldn't help but feel like had more meaning to it.

"It's... it's a _really _nice place, Cas," Dean admitted, gaping at it.

Castiel shuffled awkwardly. "Thanks for everything, Dean," Castiel spoke softly. "I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it, man," Dean replied. He suddenly felt the strange need to keep Castiel in the car with him. He wanted to tell him to stay and not to go inside. For some reason, Dean didn't trust the house or Castiel's father (which he was guessing was on the phone with Castiel). I mean, what kind of a father doesn't even notice that their kid hasn't eaten in _two damn weeks?_ "Cas-" Dean began.

"I like that," Castiel interrupted, a sad smile on his face.

Dean looked over at him. Castiel was staring at the ground of the car, seeming lost in thought. "Pardon?" Dean asked.

"I like that nickname... Cas..." Castiel clarified. "I haven't really had a nickname in a while," Castiel admitted.

Dean felt his heart flutter. "Are you alright, Cas?" Dean asked when he noticed Castiel's eyes were wet. There was something wrong. He could hear it in Castiel's voice.

Castiel nodded, and picked up his backpack. "I'm fine, I'll stop keeping you from home. I'll see you in literature, Dean. Thank you for the drive," Castiel spoke quickly, getting out of the car before Dean could think to utter a word.

And he watched Castiel walk into the house, feeling a sick twist in his stomach as he suppressed the urge to run in there after him.

After a few minutes, Dean pulled out of the driveway and drove back home.

* * *

A giant fist connected with Castiel's right eye and he let out a yell of pain as the headache in his skull screams with protest. "You fucking _skipped!_" Castiel's father's booming voice yelled out. "You don't answer your fucking phone!" He added as he knees Castiel's stomach, sending the boy down. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!" His father yelled, kicking Castiel in the side. "Get the fuck up!" He ordered.

Castiel coughed in protest and brought himself up on shaky legs as he wheezed in shallow breaths of air, feeling tears already make their way down his cheeks. "You can hit me all you want," he croaked. "Nothing you do is going to ruin my day," Castiel taunted, making his father's nostrils flare in anger before he punched Castiel in his healing cheek, sending him back down.

"You're a fucking worthless piece of garbage," his father grumbled. "What the fuck made you think you could skip class?" He yelled, enraged.

"I was sick," Castiel whispered as he got back up on his wobbly legs. "I passed out in gym, I have a concussion and-"

"I don't need your excuses," his father hissed, shoving the teen back. "You're pathetic. Get out of my face before I decide to do something worse to you," his father told him. Castiel scrambled to pick up his bag and run to his room. When he got there, he felt nausea come over him and he ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet, his head screaming with pain and his ears drowning the noise of his vomiting with its high pitched ringing.

When he managed to calm his stomach, Castiel panted as he sat and leaned against the toilet, trying to calm his nausea. He eventually overcame it, and went to the sink to brush his teeth and rid himself of the bitter taste of puke in his mouth.

Finishing off with mouthwash, Castiel took a quick shower to lessen his headache and soothe his acid-burned throat, then went to do his homework. He tried to drown his thoughts of Dean with thoughts of the trigonometry test, tomorrow, but he couldn't help but let his mind wander. He thought of the strange warmth Dean brought him, the tingling in his stomach and the way he'd get flustered around him. Castiel had never felt these feelings before, and it overwhelmed him. What could they possibly be?

His arms itched to be cut, used to the feel of razor digging into his skin when his emotions were too difficult to handle, like this. But Dean didn't make Castiel want to cut. It was different types of emotions he brought the dark-haired teen. They were feelings of hope and happiness and friendship.

So Castiel just scratched at his arms to rid them of the itching, reopening a few wounds by accident as he tried to study. He needed to pass this test. Dean made him want to try hard at his life again, and this was how he'd do it. He'd get all A's again, he'd please his father, and he'd see Dean at school. Things would be okay... things would be normal.

Please let things be normal.

_But it's your fault_, the voice reminded him.

_It's your fault._

* * *

**Yayyy Destiel is the best n_n it was kinda hard to write this chapter, mostly because i wrote it during my allnighters. So i apologize if there's any mistakes/grammatical errors! **

**THANKYOU FOR ALL THE KIND REVIEWS! :'3 I cried. you're all so great. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	5. New Friends

Castiel woke up with a hammering headache, the screech of his alarm clock worsening it. His neck was sore and and the pain traveled down his spine. When he sat up in bed, Castiel let out a moan of pain. His body was cramped up and he could barely move his muscles. Taking deep breaths to release the tension in his body, Castiel turned off his alarm clock and swung his legs over the side of the bed, contemplating if he was really in good enough shape to make it to school, today. He honestly didn't feel like walking the three mile trek. Getting beat on by his dad sounded better than walking right about now. And there was no way he'd take the bus, unless he wanted to get picked on and find a wad of gum in his hair this early in the morning.

Yeah, he'd walk.

So Castiel threw on a grey v-neck, pulling on his navy blue, warm cardigan over it. He slipped on his jeans and shoes and laid his jacket over his backpack, since he could already feel the temperature had dropped even more. When Castiel walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth, he groaned at his reflection. His eye was outlined in a light bruise that cradled the blue orb, making it's way to the edge of his ear. His bruised cheek bone (which had just started to disappear) was now re-bruised. It wasn't as bad as before, but Castiel was quite upset. As if his face honestly needed any more flaws.

Sighing, Castiel brushed his teeth and went back into his room to put on his jacket and backpack, and walked out of the house before his father could wake up. Despite his anxiety towards taking his trigonometry test today, Castiel felt excited.

And he continuously tried to tell himself it wasn't because of Dean Winchester.

* * *

Castiel got to homeroom before Dean, and took his usual seat. He was relieved Dean wasn't here yet, because he wasn't sure what he would have done. Would they sit next to each other? Would they talk? Would they just make eye contact and smile? Or would things go how they always went?

Castiel felt his stomach twist in nervousness, and he pulled out a book to read to distract himself. He had read about three pages when a voice interrupted him.

"Hey, Cas," Dean's smooth voice greeted as he heard the slight thud of Dean sitting on a plastic blue chair.

The dark-haired boy looked up, shocked, and turned to face Dean, who was seated in the empty seat at Castiel's left. Dean's smile instantly fell and his face grew dark as he leaned forward, seeming to want to reach out to Castiel. "Who did it?" He asked, not even giving Cas the chance to return his hello.

Confused, Castiel tilted his head to the side as he gazed at Dean. Then he remembered, and his eyes went wide. Dean was referring to his black eye and bruised cheek. Castiel sighed. "Dean," he began.

"Was it Alastair? Gordon? Who was it, Cas?" Dean asked, seeming ready to get up and wail on Gordon, who was sitting not too far from him. "I swear to God-"

"_Dean_," Castiel spoke louder, catching the blond boy's attention. "It wasn't any of them. Look," he murmured, pointing to the bruise. "It's already completely settled. And look at where it is. It's light, and it doesn't cover my whole eye. A bruise like that would take hours to form. I promise it wasn't them, I just got here a half hour ago," Castiel explained. Dean seemed unconvinced.

"Who was it, then?" He asked desperately, his eyes searching Castiel's.

Cas swallowed back a lump that suddenly formed in his throat. He knew he'd have to lie to Dean. He knew he'd have to, and he knew he'd regret it. "Last night," Castiel began, making sure he didn't break eye contact with the green eyes that watched his every move, waiting for a hint that he was lying. "I passed out when I got home. Probably from the concussion, I suppose," Castiel suggested. "I-uhm, I fell and smacked my face on the bedpost," Castiel explained, feeling like he wanted to vomit again. Dean seemed like he wanted so badly to believe in Cas's story. He was trying so hard not to draw conclusions. He didn't want to believe Castiel was lying. "It was my fault," Castiel told him.

_It's all your fault._

He was used to telling himself that.

Dean seemed very skeptical, but he settled back down in his seat. "Cas, I swear, if you're bullshitting me..." he began, then reworded himself, sighing and closing his eyes before opening them and speaking again. "You don't have to lie to me, alright?" He was whispering- eyebrows drawn together and green eyes intense- now that some of the homeroom was paying attention to them. There was so much sincerity in his voice that Castiel felt even guiltier than he already was.

"I know."

* * *

"Gettin' awful friendly with Novak, aren't you?" A sleazy voice asked, making Dean let out a sigh before closing his locker and facing the culprit.

"What does it matter to you, Alastair?" Dean countered, keeping his voice smooth and steady as he squinted his eyes at the teen and set his lips into an angry pout.

Alastair uncrossed his arms, putting them at his sides as he balled his hands into fists. Dean catalogues the boy's posture, keeping the image in his mind as he put his hands on his hips, ready for easy access.

Alastair raised his head. "Nobody is friendly with Novak. It's an unspoken rule at Lawrence High," the nasally voice informed.

"Why?" Dean asked, resisting himself from taking a step forward. "What has he done that's so wrong?"

The tall boy sneered. "It doesn't only got to do with what he's done. It's who he is. He's a loser, a nuisance, and he should have never have come here. Castiel doesn't belong in public school, not this one or any one within a one-hundred mile radius from here. He knows that," Alastair drawled on. He walked closer to Dean, overstepping the private bubble Dean created. "I like you, Dean," Alastair began. "Don't make me turn on you, too. Novak is not your problem. Leave him to us."

Dean puffed out his chest, trying to stare Alastair down, although the bully was much taller. "You made it my problem. Leave him alone, Alastair. Or I swear-"

"What?" Alastair hissed. "What will _you_ do, Winchester?"

But Dean only stared him down, green eyes meeting dark blue. When he didn't respond, Alastair huffed out a breath, then flung his arm back, ready to deliver a punch.

Dean was quick on his feet. As soon as Alastair's fist was within a foot from making contact, Dean grabbed it in his hand and twisted the taller teen's arm, pinning it behind his back and shoving him against a locker with a loud slam. Alastair's free hand was pressed against the locker, useless. A couple of people had stopped in the hallways now to watch, excited murmuring filling the hallways as people pulled out their phones. Some took pictures while the others typed furiously on theirs.

Leaning in close to his ear, Dean whispered, "I mean it, Alastair. You harm a hair on Castiel's head, and you're gonna deal with _me_. You understand?"

Alastair groaned in protest. Dean pressed him harder against the locker so his cheek was smashed into it, his neck twisted in a painful position. Digging an elbow into Alastair's back, Dean repeated himself. "I said: _do you understand?_" Dean growled.

"_Yes_," Alastair hissed.

"That's more like it," Dean said before tossing Alastair to the ground. The taller teen met the ground ungracefully, a loud _oof! _escaping from him as he scrambled to prop himself up on his arms. Dean was walking away, now, and Alastair gazed after him, a scowl set on his face.

"You trust him so much?" Alastair called out as Dean made his way to British Literature. The teen stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around. He could practically hear the smirk in Alastair's voice when he said, "Ask him if you can read the note in his book."

* * *

"I heard what you did," Castiel spoke as he looked down at his desk, fingers fumbling with the pages of his blue paperback _Julius Caesar _book as he gazed at it distractedly, completely uninterested in Shakespeare's words within the worn paper covers of the book. Dean had just taken his seat, and his eyes widened at the news.

"Well I'll be damned," Dean spoke, seeming impressed. "Word travels fast in this place," he remarked with a smirk. He had only been out in the hall with Alastair five minutes ago.

"This isn't funny, Dean," Castiel scolded, turning to face the blond boy. His blue eyes looked pleading. "Do not mess with Alastair. He does what he must-"

"_What__?_" Dean exclaimed, then lowered his voice when people turned to look at the two (not like they weren't watching, before). Castiel looked shocked at Dean's outburst, his deep-blue eyes wide with surprise. "Why the hell do you let that ass-clown do what he wants to you, Cas?" Dean asked, desperate to understand. "For Christ's sake, why do you sit down and take it?"

"Because I want to, Dean," Castiel retorted.

Dean was about to respond, but Ms. Madison walked into the classroom and handed out a quiz, threatening the class with zeros if they talked. So Dean didn't question it. Now was not the time. He'd have to get closer to Cas to get him to open up. Although he hated not forcing Castiel's secrets out of his scrawny self, he knew he couldn't get the stubborn bastard to explain anything until he felt he was ready to. He'd have to push questions aside and gain Castiel's trust before he can begin to help him. And, with the things Castiel has probably been through, gaining his trust would take a while.

_You trust him so much? Ask him if you can read the note in his book._

Biting his lip, Dean took his quiz and put Alastair's last taunting words to the deepest end of his mind, where it was sure not to bother him again.

* * *

When class was over, Castiel began gathering his things and was surprised to see Dean by his desk when he looked up. "Dean-" he began, startled.

"You wanna have lunch with me?" Dean asked, seeming confident and wearing that "you-can't-say-no-to-this" smile as Castiel stood up. "Well, actually, you don't have a choice. I'm gonna kidnap you after trigonometry and take you to the lunchroom anyways," Dean corrected himself. "But i'd much rather hear you say 'yes'."

Castiel blinked, and he felt his heart race and his breath stop in his throat. Nobody ever wanted to eat with him. They all either shunned him or would trip him and spill food onto him. He hasn't been to the cafeteria since his very first day at public school in the seventh grade. Castiel didn't want to say that, though. Probably shouldn't admit what a loser you are to someone you want to be friends with. "I-uhm, I do not eat lunch," he decided to say, instead.

Dean gave a smirk and laughed lightly as he nodded a little and looked down. "Yeah, I figured that," he replied, looking up at Castiel with soft green eyes, then digging into his backpack. "That's why I made two," he told Castiel with another bright smile as he pulled out two brown paper bags. Castiel just stared at them, his mouth agape. Dean put the bags back in his bag and pats Castiel on his shoulder. "See ya after trig," he told him as he headed out of the class.

Cas just stood there for a few seconds before he gained his senses and began making his way out of the room. He tried to ignore Ms. Madison's very happy smile as he walked out the door. But it was hard to ignore her smile when he could very barely contain his own.

* * *

Nervousness twisted itself deep into Castiel's stomach as he waited out trigonometry, his third class of the day. He had finished his test early. It had been incredibly easy, and Castiel was almost positive he'd receive an A on it. His headache proved to be a problem, since it made it hard for Castiel to remember certain things. But after some prodding, Castiel recalled certain details and jotted down the answers, finishing before everyone else.

Now he was watching the clock, waiting for the big hand to land on six. He tried distracting himself with reading, but he found that he couldn't concentrate on Shakespeare when he thought about sitting across from Dean Winchester and talking to him all throughout lunch, seeing his smile and hopefully hearing his laugh while he gets the chance to look at those green eyes for a whole class period-

Castiel blinked and shook his head. Why was he thinking like this?

But he couldn't help the heat in his chest. How had Dean known Castiel's schedule? The fact that Dean Winchester had given enough attention to Castiel to know where his classes were and when they were sent a fluttering happiness exploding in his chest.

At last the bell rung and Castiel gathered his things slowly, giving time for Dean to get to the class (if he wasn't pulling Cas's leg and was actually going to come). He walked out the room to the sight of Dean leaning next to it, casually giving Castiel a smile. "Hey, Cas," he greeted. "You ready?"

Castiel nodded, and let Dean lead him to the lunchroom.

"Everyone is staring," Castiel mumbled as the two friends walked to lunch.

Dean rolled his eyes as he shifted his backpack on his shoulder. "Screw what they think, Cas."

Once they got to the commons room, Dean found Castiel and himself an empty table at the far end of the cafeteria. They sat there, and Castiel tried his hardest to ignore everyone's staring. The lunch room was quiet, mind the humming of whispering voices. He shouldn't be here. Castiel shouldn't be here. He's not allowed, he should leave these people alone. He doesn't deserve to sit here-

"Relax, Cas," Dean told the dark-haired boy from his spot right across from him. They were sitting right in the middle of the table, rather than the edge, since nobody else would be trying to sit there anyways. Castiel met Dean's eyes, his own wide and panicked.

"Dean, I don't belong here," Castiel protested. "I need to leave," he convinced himself, starting to get up.

But Dean grabbed his wrist, stopping the teen. "You belong here just as much as the rest of us do, Cas. Now sit," he ordered him, his eyes steely with determination.

Swallowing back his fear, Cas nodded and sat down stiffly. "I-" Castiel began, but stopped. He took a deep breath and continued. "I have not... really... been in the cafeteria, before," he admitted to Dean, whose eyebrows rose up. "The only lunchroom I have ever been in is the one on my first day of public school... in seventh grade," Castiel explained.

Dean looked concerned and a tad bit angry. "And they scared you off of coming back to a cafeteria all this time?" Dean asked, astounded.

Castiel smirked humorlessly, feeling embarrassed. "It... was not a pleasant experience."

Deciding not to comment on it, Dean shook his head with a sigh. He handed Castiel a brown lunch bag. "Here," he speaks, trying to seem nonchalant. Castiel hesitantly takes the bag and looks at Dean. "Go ahead, Cas. I didn't poison it, damn it," Dean says frustratingly as he pulls out his own lunch contents, containing a sandwich, a bag of pretzels, and an orange.

Obliging to Dean's order, Castiel opens his own to find the same things. He curiously unwraps his sandwich and looks at it. It's bologna.

"Why did you pack lunch for me?" Castiel asks.

Dean speaks around a mouthful of bologna (and, God, Castiel shouldn't find that as alluring as he does). "Because I don't want you fainting again, you twig. As much fun as hauling your ass out of school was, I'd rather not have a repeat of that."

Castiel blushes, feeling his face heat up excessively, although he tries to contain it. Dean notices, and decides to re-word himself. "I just worry about ya, Cas," Dean admits, his mouth empty this time. "Hell, I have no freaking clue why I do, since you can be such an ass, sometimes. But..." Dean shrugs, and continues to eat.

For some reason, that makes Castiel feel much better. "Thank you, Dean."

"No sissy moments, dude," Dean replies. "Just don't mention it. We're friends. Friends do this kinda stuff for each other," he reminds him.

Castiel smiles at that, and decides to take a bite out of his sandwich. It's really good, and it reminds him of the sandwiches he'd eat with his dad after soccer practice as a little kid. He ignores his memories, and focuses on his lunch.

That is, right up until a group of kids come over to their table.

"Mind if we sit?" A petite blond asks, but slides in next to Dean, anyways, placing her tray in front of her. "Hey," she greets with a smile. "I'm Jo."

Jo is dressed in a red leather jacket that ends at her waist, a black tank top underneath it, and Castiel couldn't help but think she looked sort of like a female Dean. Her blond hair was wavy, and it ended just a little below her shoulders. She looked rather tough, but her smile was kind enough.

And Castiel is so completely stunned, because not only is she smiling at Dean, but she's smiling at Castiel, too. Was this some sort of trick?

A redheaded girl clad in a Harry Potter tee sits at Castiel's left, and a military-type blond boy sits at his right. On Dean's left is Jo, and on his right are two guys, both with brown hair, except one of them has a mullet and looks kinda like he just smoked a joint out behind the school while the other brunette looked awkward and sorta nervous.

Dean is the one to speak for both Castiel and himself. "Uhm, no offense or anything... Jo... but why exactly are you sitting with us?" Dean asks, looking at her his eyebrows furrowed.

Jo gives a smirk, and takes her apple from her tray. "Well, to keep things short, it's because we hate Alastair," she remarks. "Always have. And we like how you stood up to him," she says, turning her head to give Castiel a softer smile than the one she was giving Dean.

"It really was awesome," the redhead remarks, smiling brightly as she leans forward on the table, picking up a slice of pizza. "We heard you roughed him up real good."

"Yeah, and it's a good thing, too," the blond at Castiel's right adds with a laugh. "Alastair is such a dick."

"We're glad somebody finally kicked his ass," mullet-kid said with a smirk.

"Uh-huh..." Dean says, obviously confused, but slightly flattered, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Anyways," Jo talks, again. "This is Charlie," she gestures towards the redhead. "Adam," she adds, gesturing towards the blond on Castiel's right. "Chuck, and Ash," she finishes, gesturing towards the brown-haired boys on Dean's right. "We'd like to sit with you two from now on, if you don't mind of course," Jo admits, smiling happily at the two friends.

Dean looks into Castiel's eyes. They speak silently through their gaze, and he looks over at Jo and the others.

"Welcome to the rejects table, everyone."

* * *

**So this chapter was less angsty and more of an intro to the friend group that's gonna form n_n there's gonna be a lot of secrets and a big plot twist sometime in this story. So if any of you guys figure it out, I'll be mildly impressed ;D**

**Anyways, thanks so much for the reviews and follows! It means so much to me, I read them all and they make me smile so hard!**

**I love you all, this story wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for you guys n_n**

**_Btw I was up all night so this chappy might have errors.._****. I read over it, so it shouldn't, but still... if you see one, point it out and I'll fix it right away! I'll be reading my chapter later to see if there's anythin I should fix n_n**

**Ahhh goodnight... or ... morning... night for me.**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~ **


	6. Let's Make Plans

Metallica played at a fairly loud volume in Dean's Impala as the steady beat of drums and humming of bass filled the car. Sammy would be going home with his friend, Andy, to work on a project, so Dean would be alone for the afternoon. The teen had already done a background check on Andy, and when the kid came out clean Dean had allowed Sam to go. Of course, he had told his younger brother to text him if anything even seemed the slightest bit eerie. Sam promised he would (not without a roll of his eyes) and said he'd text Dean as soon as he was done.

He didn't mean to be paranoid. But, in all honesty, he had reason to be. Their dad's job was dangerous. Dean didn't even want to recall the numerous amounts of time he and his family had been in danger. His dad would kill him if Dean didn't even do a simple background check on anybody Sam would be alone with.

Taking a deep breath, Dean urged himself to calm down. It took everything in Dean's power not to go find Sammy and take him home right at this moment. Tightening his grip on the wheel, Dean willed himself to listen to his music. Everything was fine. Sam was safe and Dean would pick him up soon.

So Dean continued to drive, until something caught his eye.

Castiel was waiting to cross the street, gazing patiently at the stoplight as he waited for his signal to go. Dean slammed on the brakes, ignoring the protesting honks behind him as he stopped his car next to the blue-eyed teen. The light had turned from green to red, now, and the angry drivers behind Dean gave honks of exasperation. Rolling down the passenger side window, Dean smiled at Cas, who was looking at him with wide eyes- probably from the very dangerous stunt he had just pulled.

"_Dean?_" He could hear the boy utter.

"Hey, Cas! Need a lift?" Dean asked. Castiel seemed to debate with himself, until Dean reached over and opened the passenger seat door. The dark-haired teen finally gave a resigned sigh as he sat down in the car, pulling the door closed behind him. "Where ya headed?" Dean asked as he tried to not gaze at Cas too long. But _damn_ Dean would be lying if he didn't admit that Castiel's eyes were absolutely stunning in daylight.

"I was just making my way home," Castiel responded, looking down at the floor of the passenger seat.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "That's a long walk, Cas," Dean noted as he began driving, again. "Did ya miss the bus or something?" He asked as he made his way to Castiel's house.

The teen shook his head. "No. I do not ride the bus," Castiel informed him. "I prefer walking... it is less of a hassle."

Dean snorted as he allowed himself a glance at Castiel before looking back at the road. "Somehow I doubt that, man," he admitted. "I mean, the bus ain't fun but it sure beats walking."

Castiel gave a shrug. He didn't respond.

"Well," Dean began, trying out a nonchalant tone of voice. "I could take you to school and bring you home if you'd like," he offered. "You're on the way to school anyway," he added. When Castiel didn't respond right away, Dean looked over at him. The teen's eyebrows were furrowed together as he gazed at Dean with a strange expression. It was almost as if he were waiting for Dean to laugh and kick him out.

"That..." the gravelly voice mumbled. "That would be nice," he admitted. "If it's not too much trouble, that is," Castiel asked, like he was waiting for Dean to take it back and leave Castiel on his own.

Dean gave a smile. "No trouble at all. I promise."

Castiel returned the smile, then. "Thank you, Dean."

It was silent once more.

When they reached Cas's home, Dean turned to look at the dark-haired teenager. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, alright Cas?" He reminded him. "I'll be outside at seven thirty."

Castiel nodded and gave a wave goodbye before heading into his house. His father was away for the afternoon. From what Castiel gathered, his father had a fairly big case he was working on, judging by the papers he had been working with the past few weeks. Being a lawyer (ironically), Mr. Novak would sometimes be away from home for long periods of time while working on cases all around the state. Castiel preferred those days. The days his father was away were the only days he felt safe being home.

Not even daring to tempt himself with the kitchen, Castiel retreated to the office space of his home. In there was the only computer he was granted permission to use, and he wanted to check and see if his grade for trigonometry had been updated. So he switched on the computer and logged on to the grade website for his school.

When he saw that nothing had been updated Castiel sighed and turned off the desktop, taking his things to his room where he sat in anxiety, wondering if he had done well on his test. It was all he could think about. Although his father could be a horrible person, Castiel still wanted to see him proud and satisfied. He wanted to make him happy, since Castiel was the reason his father's life took a downfall.

He doesn't deserve to live in this house. He doesn't deserve to be spared like this. No matter how many times his father punished him, Castiel felt as though it wasn't enough redemption. A small part of him awaited his punishments happily. He couldn't wait until he received a strong enough penance that could make him feel as though he has learned his lesson and paid his price.

But nothing was enough. Castiel wasn't sure anything would ever be. The only way he could make it up to his father would be to take away his own life. Then his father wouldn't have to take care of him anymore.

The dark-haired teen took his seat at his desk and pulled out his homework. Castiel decided he wanted to do his work and sleep as early as he could so he wouldn't have to face his father, tonight. He wasn't sure if he could stand the look of disappointment in his father's eyes. It was just too much.

As he worked on his homework, Castiel felt his mind wander. Jo Harvelle... was she pulling a prank on Castiel, or was she genuinely interested in befriending him? She had brought her group of friends to Dean and Cas's lunch table, and they all chatted as though it was completely normal (well, Castiel didn't do much chatting). Then later on in the day Castiel realized that he and Jo had world history together seventh period, and Cas had to admit he was shocked when she left her group of friends to sit by him. The whole class had stared at them throughout the entire period as they worked together. There was no mention of the people staring at them in Castiel and Jo's conversations. It was as though they had been friends forever.

Then there was also the way Charlie and Ash walked Castiel around in the hallways whenever they spotted him that day. It was almost as if they were guarding him from something. Perhaps they, too, got the feeling that Alastair had it in even more for Castiel than he did, before. At least, Cas knew he definitely did. There was no way Alastair would let what Dean did to him slip by harmlessly. War was breaking out.

And there was no escaping it.

* * *

"Dean, Bobby is gonna stop by this weekend to check up on us," Sammy informed his older brother as he looked up from his cell phone. "According to him, Dad will be away for Thanksgiving... again," Sammy said rather disappointingly.

Dean shrugged, not looking up from his math homework. It wasn't any sort of shock to him. Their dad normally couldn't make it in time for holidays. Then he realized that Sam was probably really upset and he looked at his brother, finding out that he was indeed correct. Sam was scowling at his phone, seeming very much depressed. "Hey, cheer up Sammy," Dean urged him as he put his pencil down and stretched his arms up over his head, popping his shoulders satisfyingly. "How about this year I get us a turkey?" Dean offered, giving his brother a smile as the young boy looked at his brother hopefully. They hadn't had a Thanksgiving turkey since their mom passed away when Sam was only two. Unless you counted turkey sandwiches, that is. They were either on the road or home alone every Thanksgiving since their mother died.

"Really?" Sam asked, his eyes hesitant. "You'd really do that?"

Dean shrugged as he returned his attention to his math homework. Normally Dean didn't enjoy making a big deal out of Thanksgiving. The holiday reminded him of his mother far too much, and those memories were just too painful for him to handle (although he'd never tell Sammy that). "Yeah, why not? You got anything better to do?" He asked, looking up at Sammy again and raising an eyebrow.

Quickly, Sammy shook his head. "No! No, i'm just saying it'd be really awesome," Sam explained. "Would we... like, would we make the whole feast and everything?" Sam asked shyly.

Dean's lips twitched into a smile. "If that's what you want."

Suddenly, a bright smile enveloped Sammy's features. "Thanks, Dean!" He exclaimed before getting up from his spot on the dining table and retrieving his backpack to begin on his work that he hadn't finished earlier with his Andy. Dean smiled and got up to make dinner for Sammy and himself. Maybe Thanksgiving wouldn't be such a bad idea.

Hell, Sammy and he deserved a break once in a while.

* * *

Castiel woke up to an empty house. He had fallen asleep at his desk and all the lights were out. Letting out a tired groan, Castiel looked at his alarm clock across the room. It was five forty-three in the morning. Yawning, Castiel decided to stand up and turn on his desk lamp. He might as well get ready for school now that he was up. So, with the little bit of yellow light that leaked through the room, Castiel found his way to the bathroom where he took a shower and brushed his teeth. When he had stepped out of the bath, he noticed his cuts were healing as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror, towel wrapped around his waist. The most recent ones were fully scabbed over, and honestly Castiel wasn't used to the sight. The bruising on his ribs was healed, now, the purplish bruise starting to fade as the normal shade of pink flesh overtook it. His bruised face was still prominent, of course, but Castiel was actually quite indifferent to the sight, nowadays. He always seemed to look like he had gotten into a particularly bad fight... and lost.

Running fingers messily through his wet hair, Castiel walked out of the bathroom and changed into jeans and one of his many worn out sweaters (it was a faded maroon, today). The day was very chilly, judging by the bitter cold of Castiel's room. He needed to remember to turn up the thermostat. Shivering, Castiel slipped on his jacket and shoes, gathered his school supplies and checked the time. Six fifteen. He could just head to school now and be there early. If he brought his beanie with him the cold air wouldn't-

Oh, wait.

Dean was driving Castiel to school today.

Castiel felt his throat tighten and his heart flutter in his chest. He didn't have to walk... he had a friend who wanted to drive him to school... he had a friend...

Castiel felt a smile make its way to his lips. Is this what friendship was? Was the tingling in his chest and the tightness in his stomach and the pounding of his heart all due to his excitement at making a friend? Castiel was never very good with understanding emotions like this. Up until he met Dean, he never quite felt any emotion other than anxiety and sadness. He had no idea what category to place these new feelings in. Perhaps he'd need to do more research on it... he could grow closer to Jo and her group. He could see what feelings they bring them.

_But you don't deserve friendship. You don't deserve them. Push them away, push them away, push them-_

No. He wasn't going to think like that. He couldn't afford to think like that- not when things were finally going so well for him.

So, with that in his mind, Castiel made his way to the living room where he sat and waited for the noise of Dean's car. His stomach twisted in anxiousness as the antique clock that sat above the grand fireplace in his sitting room neared seven thirty. What if Dean forgot about him? What if it was a joke? What if Castiel imagined Dean promising him a ride? He should walk to school, _right now_. He's going to be late and his dad is going to find out and-

The soft hum of an engine stated its presence outside of Castiel's home. Feeling his heart leap, Castiel got up and made his way to the window that peered out into the driveway. Indeed, Dean's car was parked in Castiel's driveway. Taking a deep breath to repress his smile, Castiel gathered his bag and went outside, the sudden rush of cold air nipping at his nose and cheeks.

The blue-eyed teen could see Dean smiling at him from the driver's seat. The passenger seat was empty, and Sam was sitting in the back. Dean wanted Cas to sit in the front...? Ignoring the heat that pooled in his cheeks, Castiel returned the smile and slipped into his seat.

"Good morning," he greeted both the Winchesters. Dean mumbled his good mornings as he started up the car. It was toasty inside, Castiel noted, and it smelled like leather and Dean's musky, pine scent.

"Hey, Cas," Sam greeted, looking up from his textbook for one second to give the teen a quick smile. There were papers and notebooks sprawled out in the backseat, and Sam was looking at each occasionally, putting fingers between pages that he most likely intended to look over.

Castiel raised an eyebrow as he buckled his seatbelt. "Are you studying for a test?" He couldn't help but ask the younger boy.

Sam looked up and gave a sheepish smile. "No, a quiz... I just don't understand this class... the material is really complex and Physics isn't really my favorite subject," Sam admitted.

Castiel turned around some more now to face the young teen. "I was somewhat fair in physics. I could help you if you'd like," Castiel offered.

Sam perked up at that. "Really? You'd do that?" He asked hopefully.

Castiel shrugged, smiling slightly. "If you'd let me," he replied.

"Yeah, sounds good!"Sam exclaimed, smiling big now as he put away his things.

"You don't mind, Cas?" Dean asked as he glanced at his friend.

"Of course not," Castiel responded. "I'd be happy to help out in any way I can."

Dean smiled. "Thanks, man."

"You could come over to our house on days that you're free," Sam suggested. "Since we're gonna be carpooling and stuff."

"Sounds like a good plan," Castiel confirmed with a smile.

They pulled up to the middle school and dropped off Sammy, then headed over to the high school in silence. When they parked in the school's parking lot, Castiel looked over at Dean. "Thanks for doing this..." he began. Dean looked at him with a confused expression and Castiel clarified himself. "Driving me. You really didn't have to," Castiel explained.

"Geez, Cas," Dean started, a tint of red highlighting his ears. "I told ya, it's no big deal. Come on," he began before Castiel could say anything. "Let's go."

So they got out of the car and walked to the school building. Before they could even make it inside, though, Castiel felt an ice cold smack at his back that instantly seeped through his jacket and reached his sweater. Almost as instantly as the first smack, three more followed: one hitting the back of his head, one hitting his arm, and the last one his leg. Among the chaos, Castiel could hear Dean curse. "_What the_-"

But Castiel wasn't focusing on Dean. He was focusing on the intense bitter cold that now traveled through his body. Castiel realized now that it was water. He had been hit by water balloons. His hair was soaked thoroughly, along with his torso and right pant leg. The water was ice cold, and Castiel could already feel goosebumps form on his arms as he fought off the urge to shiver.

Now he was taking in everything around him. A crowd had stopped, half of them looking very shocked while the other half laughed and looked around the crowd to see who had thrown the balloons. The sound of voices was loud, and despite the cold that now enveloped him, Castiel felt his cheeks flush hotly with embarrassment.

"_Who threw that?_" Dean exclaimed, glaring at the crowd, who now instantly hushed up at Dean's outburst. Nobody answered. Everyone was whispering among themselves. Some people even began to leave. Dean growled, fists clenched. "How about you show yourself you son of a-"

"Dean," Castiel interrupted him, placing a hand (one that wasn't currently soaked) on Dean's arm. The blond boy instantly looked at Castiel, and their eyes met. Castiel stared him down, intense blue eyes dominating furious green ones. Underneath his grip, Castiel instantly felt Dean's muscles loosen up.

Breaking their eye contact with a huff, Dean glared at what was left of the crowd one last time. "Let's go," he muttered angrily to the dark haired teen. He took off, and Castiel sighed before following suit.

When they were safe inside the building, Dean turned around and held Cas's shoulders, stopping the teen in his tracks as he observed him. "Damnit, Cas. You're soaked," Dean mumbled as he let go of Castiel's shoulders to run a hand through his blond hair in frustration.

"It's really alright, Dean," Castiel assured him, although he was fighting off the need to shed his clothes and find a blanket or two. "They're not worth your anger. If you get upset you are only giving them what they-"

"Cas, they threw freaking _water balloons_ at you!" Dean exclaimed. "Like, who the hell does that? How are you not the least bit pissed?" Dean asked, his green eyes wide with astonishment.

_Because I deserve it._ "Because it does not matter," Castiel mumbled.

Dean seemed like he was about to say something, but he instantly closed his mouth into a tight line and licked his lips before averting his gaze to the lockers on his right. "Let's go get you cleaned up," he mumbled as he headed off to the bathrooms. Castiel followed, feeling a twisting nag in his stomach convincing him that Dean was very much upset with him.

After scaring off the two freshmen boys that were in the men's room, Dean grabbed some paper towels and handed them to Cas, who was unzipping his jacket and shrugging it off after removing his backpack from his shoulders. He couldn't help but shiver at the loss of his jacket, although it was soaked with cold water. Dean noticed and gave the teen a disapproving look.

"You're gonna get sick," he commented after Castiel accepted his paper towels. "First the concussion and now we can add pneumonia to the list," Dean mumbled.

Castiel rolled his eyes as he wiped hard at the water on the back of his right leg. The jean's material wasn't really allowing much water to be soaked up by the towels, but Castiel tried at it nevertheless. He didn't want to walk around looking like he'd had quite the unfortunate accident for the rest of the day. "The school has plenty of heaters, Dean," Castiel informed the green eyed boy. "I'm fairly sure that I shall be fine, doctor" he added sarcastically. Then, at the glare he received from Dean, he cut back on the snide remarks. "My clothes will dry in no time," he mumbled.

When Dean didn't respond, Castiel sighed and threw away the damp paper towels, grabbing a few more as he wiped at his hair. Once it was somewhat dry, Castiel ran his fingers through his hair and ruffled it to air it out better. His sweater was slightly damp, but fortunately his jacket had taken most of the blow. Once he had finished throwing away the rest of the wetted paper towels, Castiel turned to face Dean and spread out his arms to show him. "There," he stated, giving a forced smile. "Good as new."

Dean ran the tip of his tongue over his lips and his jaw set as he looked at Castiel. "Let's go to homeroom," he said stiffly, tossing Castiel his backpack and making his way out of the bathroom.

Castiel huffed as he followed his friend. Today was not going to be an easy day.

* * *

British literature passed by with stolen glances and tons of independent classwork. Thanksgiving break was starting on Tuesday, and the teachers were all cramming work into their classes, as if a five-day break were reason enough to do that. Castiel was working hard. His father would be returning Sunday morning, and Castiel really really wanted to have good grades to show him by the time he returned.

The bell rang and Castiel gathered his things. Dean was waiting by Cas's desk, again, and the dark-haired boy gave him a hesitant smile, to which Dean tried to return. He was still upset about this morning, Castiel realized. _Well, I don't understand why he would be. He's not the one who got hit with water balloons_, Castiel mused.

So when he finished gathering his things, the two teens began walking out of class. That was, until Ms. Madison called Castiel over.

"Castiel? Can you come here for a moment?" She asked with a smile.

Blinking, Castiel nodded and walked to her desk, trailed by Dean. "Yes, Ms. Madison?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted in his signature confused expression.

The literature teacher smiled fondly. "Here," she began, handing Castiel a square item wrapped in wrapping paper. "Happy birthday, Castiel," she told him with a smile.

Castiel was dazed. He had completely forgotten it was his birthday. What with all that had been going on, he didn't even remember it. "Oh," he breathed out, feeling his cheeks heat with embarrassment. "Thank you," he replied, gathering his senses as he gave his teacher a genuine smile and accepted her gift. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, honey," she replied, giving him a warm smile. "Have a great birthday."

Giving her one last smile, Castiel nodded and looked into Dean's shocked eyes before the two walked out.

"Dude, you didn't tell me it was your birthday," Dean remarked as he walked Castiel to trigonometry. "Why didn't you say anything?" He asked.

Castiel just blinked, staring at the gift in his hands. "I suppose I forgot about it," he admitted.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "How can you forget about your birthday when your lit. teacher remembers it?" Dean asked, astounded.

Castiel looked at Dean, his expression serious and slightly confused. "Ms. Madison always remembers my birthday. She's given me a present every year. I do not celebrate my birthday, and honestly I almost forgot when it was," Castiel remarked.

Dean just blinks, unable to speak.

They make it to Castiel's math class, and he looks at Dean, again. "See you at lunch, Dean," Castiel says before walking into his class, leaving a stunned Dean behind.

* * *

When math class is over, Castiel walks up to Mrs. Bates's desk. "Excuse me, Mrs. Bates," he speaks, gathering her attention as she looks up at him and away from her computer monitor. "I was wondering if... uh, well if you've graded my test from yesterday," Castiel asks, knowing it's probably a bit much to ask if his math teacher graded his test out of the hundreds that are waiting for their markings. He suddenly feels very stupid.

That is, until Mrs. Bates gives him a big smile. "Infact, I did, Mr. Novak," she remarks, opening a drawer and searching through papers. "You had quite the memorable score on it, Castiel," she remarked as she pulled out a packet and handed it to him, smiling wider. "Congratulations."

Castiel feels his heart beat fast in his chest as his shaky hands grab the paper to look at the score.

A one-hundred and five.

Castiel got a one-hundred and five.

He swallowed thickly, his stomach churning. "Wh-what- ah," he stuttered, laughing breathily. He looked at Mrs. Bates with questioning eyes, his eyebrows sewn together with confusion as he smiled. "Why the extra five?" He couldn't help but ask.

Mrs. Bates gave a smirk. "You corrected two of my questions. It was very observant and clever, nobody else found the error. I supposed it was worthy of an extra five points."

Castiel laughed, feeling his eyes water as he ran a hand through his hair. "Thank you," he spoke, looking into his teacher's eyes. "Thank you so much," he laughed.

His math teacher smiled warmly. "You deserved it, Castiel. Have a good weekend," she dismissed.

"You too," he returned, and began walking out of the class, eyes glued onto the paper in his hands. He was so distracted that he ran into Dean.

"Woah there," Dean spoke, startled as he grabbed Cas's shoulders and steadied him. "You alright, Cas?" He asked, noting the dazed look on the boy's face. Castiel only smiled wide. Dean raised his eyebrows. "What-"

"I got a one-hundred and five," Castiel spoke breathlessly.

"Huh?" Dean asked, not understanding.

Castiel lifted up his math test, smiling wide, now. "I got an A on it. I passed my math test," he clarified.

Dean smiled big, now. "Awesome, man! Damn, a one-hundred and five?" He noted the red numbers on top of the packet. "How'd you do that?" Dean asked as he took the packet and walked to lunch with Castiel. He skimmed through the papers while Cas trotted beside him, a goofy grin on the blue-eyed boy's face. "Was there a bonus question?"

"Nope," Castiel responded happily. "I corrected Mrs. Bates's errors on the test," Cas explained.

Dean smirked. "Nice going, man!" He remarked, slinging an arm around Castiel's shoulder as he held out the test in front of them. "We should celebrate," he suggested as the two friends made their way to their lunch table.

"Celebrate what?" Charlie asked, their new group of friends picking up on their conversation.

Before Castiel could speak Dean answered her. "Cas got a one-hundred and five on his math test," he spoke, seeming like a proud father. "Also, it's his birthday," he added, making Castiel's smile fade as he glared at Dean.

"_Dean_," he mumbled.

"It's your birthday?" Jo asked, eyes wide.

"You never said anything about it, yesterday!" Charlie remarked.

"Yeah, he didn't tell me, either," Dean added as he and Castiel sat at their table.

"We should definitely celebrate!" Charlie exclaimed, beaming at Castiel.

"That's not quite necessary-" Castiel began, but nobody paid attention to his statement.

"We could go see that new horror movie at the cinema," Adam suggested with a smile.

"Aw, man, I think I know what you're talking about! I've been wanting to see that _forever_!" Chuck exclaimed.

"It came out a month ago, Chuck," Charlie spoke with a roll of her eyes.

"That's still a long time," Chuck countered.

"We could all crash at my place afterwards," Jo added with a smile. "My mom wouldn't mind."

"Hell yeah, we could hang out in the basement!" Ash exclaimed. "With the pool table and the beer-"

"That'd be so much fun!" Charlie squealed. She turned to look at Cas. "Whad'ya say, Castiel?" She asked, eyes bright with excitement.

Castiel looked at everyone around him. He squirmed in his seat, looking down at the table. "Uh- I don't really have money for the movies... and I should probably-"

"I could pay for you," Dean volunteered. "C'mon, Cas," he urged with a winning smile. "Hell, who knows. It could be fun," he murmured so only Cas could hear.

Drawing his lips into a line, Castiel debated with himself. His father would be gone until Sunday... his grade was almost back to an A. He had worked really hard in school, and, hell, it _was_ his birthday after all. Maybe he deserved this break.

Castiel smiled and looked at his friends. "Sure, that sounds like fun."

* * *

**Yay! It's finally up!**

**So next chapter is going to have ****_so _****much mushy squishy destiel fluff, I might die just writing it!**

**Thankyou all for your outstanding reviews, the best part of my day is when I get to read them! You're all so lovely!**

**Sooooo reasons for this being put up so late, if anyone cares/wants an explanation:**

**1. I had a very bad relapse a couple of days after my last chapter update, and it resulted in an anxiety attack and... well, let's just say I was close to a year cut-free but now that's ruined. I didn't write because this fic just kinda brings back bad memories and I needed to clear my mind for a while.**

**2. I had been really depressed and couldn't find the motivation to write (i still kinda am but I'm feeling much better, this has been my longest episode)**

**3. I've been sosososososooooo busy with college stuff! (and still am!) and that's been really taking up my schedule!**

**but now I shall try and update quicker. n_n the next chapter will be up in less than a week, I swear. It kinda depends on how motivated I am.**

**Anyways, thankyou for reading!**

**Please review/ leave me your opinion! n_n it helps me a ton3**

**Also, I had to force myself to finish this by not allowing myself any sleep, so if there's errors or if this chapter isn't that great, that's why**

**ALSO ALSO, I EDITED ALL MY PREVIOUS CHAPTERS/ MADE THEM BETTER/ ADDED A COUPLE MORE DETAILS IF YOU GUYS WANNA REREAD IT (it doesn't matter if you don't, i didn' add anything important, i just cleaned it up and added some more detail!)**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	7. Raspberry Lemonade and Twizzlers

When school ended, Dean dropped off Castiel at home to get ready. Dean was going to be picking up everyone, since he was the only one with a car (besides Ash, but his truck had broken down and was being repaired). Everyone had groaned when they found out that the car only had five seats, but they agreed to find a way to squeeze in. It was gonna be a short drive, anyways. Everyone (besides Castiel) was gathering at Adam's house, where Dean would pick them up and take them to the cinema.

So now Castiel was at home getting ready. The movie started at eight, and Castiel was trying to mentally prepare himself. He tried not to over think the coming evening, because it was sure to give him serious anxiety issues that would eventually make him cancel last minute. So, instead, Castiel worked on homework until it was seven thirty- preoccupying his mind to the point where it was too late to say no. When it came time to get ready, he looked in the mirror and gazed sullenly at his reflection. His hair was very messy, poking in every direction from working on his homework (Castiel tended to run a hand through his hair when he was deep in thought). He smoothed down his hair, trying to tame it in vain as he observed his outfit. Castiel scowled. He'd probably have to get changed. His raggedy sweater just wasn't going to cut it.

Taking in a breath, Castiel made his way to his closet where he scavenged through his clothes, looking for his nicest ones. He ended up changing into a deep blue v-neck, a smoky-gray cardigan over it, and a pair of black skinny jeans (which he hadn't worn in quite some time, and were pretty baggy on him, Castiel noted). Next, Castiel slipped into his worn out Vans that he'd owned since the eighth grade. They were gray with black laces, and they were very much rugged and beat up. Castiel only owned two pairs of shoes: his Vans and a pair of running sneakers.

Looking at himself in his mirror, Castiel smiled. He looked somewhat better. So, with that in mind, Castiel went to the bathroom to gather a few things. Jo had said everyone would be sleeping over, so Castiel retrieved his toothbrush from the bathroom, along with his tube of toothpaste, deodorant and his contact solution and case. Castiel had put on his contacts this morning, something he didn't do too often. But he figured since he was in school it'd probably be best to use them. His eyesight wasn't terrible, just a little out of focus to the point where words on a whiteboard were cumbersome to decipher.

He went into his bedroom and picked up his backpack, emptying the contents within it on the bed so he could make room for his possessions. He tossed in the bathroom supplies, then added a pair of sweatpants, a thin blue sweatshirt, his cell phone charger, and his glasses (which he normally wore on weekends). Lastly, he added his present from Ms. Madison, which he promised himself he'd open later tonight.

When he checked to make sure that he had everything he needed, Castiel zipped up his backpack, grabbed his beanie and jacket, and made his way to the living room where he sat down on a couch and waited for Dean, gazing at his cell phone screen for the text message.

Dean had asked for Castiel's number on their way to pick up Sammy earlier today. Castiel tried to ignore the feeling it gave him- his heart pounding wildly and his hands getting clammy as he took Dean's cell phone and added his number to his contact list. Castiel felt quite special, because (he noticed) he was one of the few contacts on Dean's cell phone. Later on, during a red light, Dean had texted him to make sure they had the right number. Castiel was staring at that message, now, reading it over and over, even though it really wasn't all that special. There were only two text messages sent between them, and they went as follows:

_Dean: Cas?_

_Castiel: Hello, Dean._

Dean had laughed at Castiel's message, saying how he could almost hear Cas's voice saying those words. Castiel smiled at that, observing the way Dean tipped his head back as he laughed, his eyes crinkled with the smile that reached them.

Smiling at the memory, Castiel looked over the text, again. Why did he feel so happy about having somebody's number? It wasn't that special. They were friends, after all. Exchanging numbers was a regular activity between friends, Castiel reminded himself.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated and he checked it.

_Dean: Im outside_

Castiel got up and put on his jacket and beanie, letting it hang loosely on the back of his head, covering up the messy protruding hair back there, then slid on his backpack and made his way out the door. It was dark outside, the street very barely lit by the soft warm glow of a few lampposts. Dean's black car blended right in, the smooth surface only giving away its presence by reflecting the moonlight. Castiel grabbed his key from his pocket, locking the door behind him before he made his way to Dean.

Dean got out of the car and gave Cas a smile, taking his backpack. "I'll put that in the trunk. There's not gonna be enough room for it once everyone's in the car," Dean explained. Castiel nodded and when his bag was in the trunk the two friends got into the car, Castiel sliding into the passenger seat next to Dean. Castiel looked out the window at his house. This was the first weekend in years that he'd be leaving it, besides to go to church. It felt strange- almost surreal. This had to be a dream, because he was actually leaving his home to hang out with _friends_. About a month ago Castiel wouldn't have thought he'd ever be doing something like this. And, honestly, he owed it all to Dean Winchester.

When Castiel realized the car didn't start, he looked over at Dean. The teen was gazing at him, and when he realized Castiel caught him he gave a sheepish smirk. "Sorry. You look... different," he noted.

Castiel raised an eyebrow and looked down at his outfit, feeling embarrassed now. "I... they are the nicest clothes I own, I think- besides my church clothes," Castiel explained shyly, fingers twiddling with the hem of his t-shirt.

To his surprise, Dean barked out a laugh, starting up the car. "Y'look good, Cas. I like it," he admitted, and Castiel felt his heart launch itself into his throat. Dean thought Castiel looked nice... if it was just a compliment, why on Earth was Castiel's heart beating so fast?

He was glad it was nighttime, because he knew for certain his face was beet red.

The car ride was silent, for the most part. Dean played one of his cassette tapes and they listened to it as they drove to Adam's house. Castiel allowed himself a side glance over at Dean, who was paying too much attention to the road and his music to notice. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a red button up and a gray cargo jacket on top. He was also wearing his usual scruffy jeans and boots. Castiel's gaze wandered to Dean's face, highlighted by the many lights that dotted the streets. His irises almost looked yellow with light, and the glow warmed his face, outlining his nose and cheekbones and full lips. Feeling himself blush, again, Castiel tore his gaze away and looked out his window, trying to get the image of Dean's lips out of his mind.

When they got to Adam's house, the whole gang walked out the front door to the car, each carrying bags, themselves. Dean got out and opened the trunk, and everyone put their belongings in it. Excited voices made their way to Castiel's hearing from outside the car, and he heard the back door open with a pop.

"Hey, Castiel!" Charlie greeted as she clambered into the back, followed by Ash and Chuck. Castiel smiled and returned her greeting.

Suddenly he could hear Jo and Adam arguing.

"No way am I sitting on the floor-"

"You lost, Adam," Jo said exasperatingly. "Rock beats scissors, you get the floor."

Dean's voice interrupted them. "Adam, squeeze into the back somehow. Jo, you can sit in the front with Cas or something. The drive is like seven minutes, guys, it's no big deal as long as we don't get caught," Dean told them.

With a laugh from Jo and a mumble from Adam, Jo opened the passenger seat door and gave Castiel a smile. "Hey! Mind if I squeeze in?" She asked.

Castiel blinked and shook his head. "No, I do not mind," he responded. So Jo shuffled in, and ended up sitting on his lap. She smelled like apples and a little bit like beer, Castiel noticed, and he shifted slightly to accustom his lap with her weight. Her hair brushed against his cheek, tickling him and Jo squirmed, mumbling apologies while throwing in an embarrassed laugh. When Dean sat in the car, he looked over at the two and quirked an eyebrow, giving a smirk. "Getting some action there, you two?" He joked as he buckled in his seat belt.

"_Dean_."

"_Oh_ shut up!"

Dean laughed and started up the car. "Just find a way to get your seat belt on, at least," he told them. It didn't take much effort to get the seat belt around both Castiel and Jo, because they were both fairly thin. They got it on with a click, and then Dean began driving the group to the movie theater. Everybody listened to Dean's music (it turned out Ash and Dean had the same taste) and they all talked about how excited they were to see the "best horror movie ever". Castiel felt a nervous twist in his gut. He never really liked horror movies, but he wasn't about to tell everyone and ruin their night out. He'd just have to suck it up and get through the movie in one piece.

When they pulled up to the theater, everybody climbed out of the car messily (not without Dean threatening to kill them if they "fucked with the upholstery") and made their way to the theater, buying tickets at the booth in the entrance. Castiel felt his heart pound as Dean put his ticket into his hand. He mumbled a thank you.

And of course Dean noticed.

"You alright, Cas?" Dean whispered as they walked into the cinema side-by-side, shoulders bumping as Dean leaned in. The theater was warm, and Castiel's cold cheeks stung with the temperature change.

"Yes," he managed to get out, eyes looking from the floor up ahead of him. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, eyeing his friend as they walked into the snack line. "You look like you're gonna be sick," Dean pointed out.

Castiel shook his head. "I'm fine, Dean. Really," he assured his friend as he turned to meet his gaze. Dean stepped back slightly, and opened his mouth as if to say something.

Before Dean could respond, an elbow nudged Castiel's shoulder. "Here you go, Cas!" Charlie exclaimed as she displayed four different types of candies and an icee.

Castiel's eyes widened. "What is this?" He asked as the candy and drink were shoved into his hands. His blue eyes looked into Charlie's, then around at the rest of the group, who were laughing at Castiel's expression.

"Well, we didn't really have much time to get you a decent gift," Adam pointed out.

"So happy birthday!" Jo exclaimed.

Castiel let out a laugh as he looked at the candy. They looked pretty good, from the illustrations on the wrappers. But he's never had these types of candy, before.

"What's wrong?" Chuck asked. "You don't like 'em?"

"No, no, it's not that," Castiel insisted. "I've just never had them before," Castiel explained, looking up from the candy to Chuck as he gave a shrug.

"_What?_" Jo, Ash, and Adam exclaimed together.

"You're _joking_, right?" Charlie asked. Chuck just looked dumbstruck.

Castiel looked at his friends, his eyebrows furrowed. "No, I am not joking. I mean, I've had Skittles before," Castiel explained as he looked at the Sour Skittles wrapper. "Just not these kind."

"Dude, what have you been _doing_ your whole childhood?" Ash asked, an astounded look on his face. Even Dean was looking at Cas with shock.

_Avoiding my abusive father._ "Not much, I suppose," Castiel answered.

Charlie snorted. "Apparently," she replied.

"Well as much fun as you guys are having harassing Cas about his lack of candy experience," Dean began, holding a tub of popcorn and putting a soda bottle into his jacket pocket, "we sorta have a movie to get to."

So they walked into the room where their movie was being held, Charlie pestering Cas quietly (_you haven't even had Goobers? Really?_). When they got into the theater, they filed into seats in the back, Castiel sitting between Dean and Charlie. Castiel had stuffed his candy into his cardigan and jacket pockets and picked up his icee, holding it in his hands as he observed it in the dim light of trailers flicking on the giant screen in front of him. The drink was blue raspberry, the one he'd always get when he went to the movies with his parents.

"What, don't tell me you haven't had a slushie, either?" Dean asked as he raised an eyebrow at his friend, smirking.

Castiel smiled slightly. "No, I've had it before," he responded, not looking up from his cup as he took a sip from it. He could hear Dean chuckle.

"Here, take some before Ash eats it all," Dean offered, handing his bucket of popcorn over. Castiel smiled and took some. It was buttery and salty and one of the best things he's tasted in a while, besides the burgers Dean bought him a couple days ago, of course.

When they started paying attention to the trailers, Dean would lean in and whisper comments about how dumb some of them looked while other times he'd tell Cas that they'd "definitely have to see that soon". It gave him a strange feeling in his gut- imagining going to the movies with just Dean. But surely Dean meant the whole group when he said "we"? At some point during the trailers, Dean and Charlie got into a heated debate over whether one of the trailers was completely awful or not. They were both leaning over Cas, bragging about their movie expertise as they defended their opinions. Eventually Castiel had to separate them, not without a laugh first when the rest of the group chose sides, defending either Dean or Charlie.

Before he knew it the movie was starting. It was an exorcism movie, one of the things Castiel was terrified of the most. He gripped his armrests, sitting stiffly in his seat when the film flickered on. When Castiel was young his mother would tell him that God and his angels would always protect him and watch over him. After his mother was gone, his father would tell him that all the angels were gone, too- that they left with her. When they got in arguments Castiel's father would tell him things like "Lucifer and his demons will come after you, now", and "the angels are gone and you won't be safe unless you be good and go to church".

He'd have nightmares (ones that he woke up in the middle of the night from, covered in a sheen of hot sweat) about being taken away by the devil, locked in a cage with him, never to escape. He had dreams of people with black eyes chasing him, overpowering him as they drag him to hell and shed him of his wings- ripping them from his back- the ones that his mother told him made him one of God's angels. That's how Castiel got his name, acutally- his mother named him after one of the angels (the angel of Thursday) and would always tell Castiel that that made him an angel, too.

Although it was just a movie, it made him anxious- seeing demons, that is. He closed his eyes when things got particularly graphic, and Dean noticed. "Hey, Cas," Dean whispered, leaning in when a girl's neck snapped unnaturally and she screeched curses in some strange language. "You okay, man?"

Castiel nodded, opening his eyes as he swallowed thickly and forced himself to look at the screen. He couldn't make himself speak, his voice would just give it away. It was silly, he knew, to be afraid of something so dumb. This movie idea had been done tons of times, before, but it didn't stop him from feeling truly scared. Perhaps it was the loud speakers and the full screen and dark room. But he didn't want to tell Dean that. There was no way he was going to ruin this night for everyone. He should be happy, anyways. Castiel was out with _friends_. They were people that cared about him and wanted to make him happy. He should make them happy too by not spoiling their night.

The next thing he knew a comforting warm hand was on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. He looked down at it in shock then over at who it belonged to. Dean was looking Castiel in the eyes, the green of his irises still prominent in the glow of the movie screen. Castiel felt his heart calm and he gave a small smile.

They continued to watch the movie, and Dean's hand continued to stay in its place on Castiel's arm- a constant reminder that there was nothing to be afraid of. By the time the movie was over, Dean's hand went back to its respective place before anybody could notice, and the two friends didn't say anything about it. Everyone got up to leave, chatting excitedly with one another about how awesome and terrifying the movie was.

"You didn't eat any of your candy!" Charlie pointed out when they were in the light of the cinema lobby.

Castiel rolled his eyes and gave a smile. "I suppose I was too focused on watching a girl's neck bend in impossible ways while she spider-climbed on walls," he replied sarcastically. Dean barked out a laugh, his head tilting back. Ash and Adam snickered, as well.

Charlie raised an eyebrow as she smiled, elbowing Cas in the side. "Well, Baby Blues who woulda known you had a sarcastic side?" Charlie laughed as Castiel's eyes squinted in confusion.

"Baby blues?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

Everyone suddenly laughed and Jo spoke up. "She's talking about your eyes, Castiel," Jo explained, trying to hold back the smile that stretched her lips.

Castiel's eyes widened and he felt rather dumb for not knowing that in the first place. "Oh," he spoke, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Dean's arm slung around Castiel's shoulders as the group headed to his car. "Ah, don't listen to them, Cas," Dean comforted him. "More candy for us, anyways," he said with a smirk, glancing over at the others.

Everyone immediately flooded over, tackling Castiel in hugs and compliments.

"Did I mention how great you look tonight?" Charlie asked.

"Lovin' the hat, Cas," Jo added, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Castiel rolled his eyes, smiling. "I was going to share with you all, anyway," Castiel commented. "I don't believe it'd be the best idea to eat it all on my own."

The group cheered and talked enthusiastically about what they'd do when they got to Jo's house. Charlie said she'd brought all the Star Wars movies she owned, and that they should have a movie marathon. Everyone seemed particularly enthusiastic about that, so they agreed on it as they clambered into Dean's car, taking their same seats. Adam and Ash declared that they'd play a drinking game with the movie marathon- every time Luke Skywalker whines, they'd take a drink. Charlie laughed and said she hoped they'd have fun getting wasted within the first thirty minutes. After Ash and Adam relentlessly pestered the girls to join them, Jo and Charlie agreed they'd take a drink every time Leia insults somebody. Chuck said he'd happily keep count of what group ends up taking the most shots. When they asked Dean if he'd join their game, he politely declined, saying he'd rather just have a couple beers. They didn't even have to ask Cas to know he didn't drink.

When Dean pulled into Jo's driveway, everybody got out and retrieved their belongings. When they got inside they were greeted by Jo's mom, Ellen. Ellen was a very kind woman, although she held the strictness of a protective mother. She agreed to letting the group have a couple drinks, trusting Jo to make sure they all stayed safe. After some pestering at the teens, promising them she'd "kick their asses to the other side of the Kansas", she told the group that she was just going to be in the living room, and that if they needed anything just to ask her. Before Jo ushered everyone to the basement, Castiel noticed that Ellen was staring at him. When he caught her, she gave him a slight sympathetic smile before looking away. He didn't have long to think about it before Jo was ushering him down the basement steps.

"Don't mind her," Jo apologized. "I... well I might've told her about you a little," Jo admitted. They had made it to the bottom of the stairs, now, and had stopped to talk. She tucked her blond hair behind her ears before she continued. "About Alastair and stuff... I think she found out who you were because of..." Jo bit her lip and gestured to Cas's bruises. He felt himself turn red.

Oh, great, that's what he needed- more people to feel sorry for him. "Oh," was all he managed to get out as he tore his eyes away from Jo, looking at the ground before he forced himself to look at her, again.

Jo gazed at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, Cas. She means no harm, I promise. She's just kinda worried, y'know?"

"Yes, it's alright, Jo," Castiel told her with a smile. "It's fine."

Jo looked into Castiel's eyes, as if searching for a giveaway that he was lying. Before she could say anything, though, Dean interrupted him.

"You lovebirds gonna come over here or are we gonna have to start without you?" He asked, looking over at them almost irritably as he waited by the light switch. Backpacks were already thrown into a pile in the corner of the basement. A movie was in the VCR and ready to play. When Castiel processed Dean's comment, he felt his face grow hot.

"We're not-" he began.

"Coming, you're majesty," Jo replied sarcastically. She turned to face Cas and gave him a smile, squeezing his arm before heading over to Charlie to prepare the drinks Chuck had received from the fridge. Castiel looked around the basement. There was one large room (the one they were in) and then three doors. One of the doors led to a guest bedroom, one to a storage room (which had mostly pipes, boxes, and the mini fridge, from what Castiel could see, and one led to a spare room that Cas couldn't really see into, because the lights were off in that room. Plush couches and chairs sat around a flat screen TV, and a coffee table sat in front of the chairs. There was a couple of small tables around the room, and a grand piano, as well, along with classy looking art that hung on the walls. The drinking game competitors were sitting on some beanbags in front of the TV, and Chuck was sitting on an armchair near them.

Shuffling awkwardly in his spot, Castiel decided to sit on a love seat, and dropped his backpack on the floor beside the couch. The lights suddenly turned off and the movie began rolling. A couple seconds later, Dean plopped down next to Cas, holding up two beer cans. He held one over to Cas, a smile on his face.

Castiel looked at it for a second before taking it in his hands. It was cold, condensation beading along the can. He could hear Dean chuckle beside him.

"Lemme guess, you haven't had a beer before?" Dean asked, reclining in his seat as he popped open his beer.

Castiel licked his lips, gnawing on the bottom one before he spoke. "No, not really. I haven't seen any of the Star Wars movies, either, if we're gonna talk about everything I haven't done," Castiel added. Dean stared at him, dumbstruck. "But I suppose tonight should be the night that I do things I have not done, before," Castiel decided.

Giving a snort of a laugh, Dean clapped a hand on Castiel's back. "Outta boy," he encouraged with a goofy smile, taking another sip from his can.

Smiling slightly, encouraged by Dean's enthusiasm, Castiel opened his beer, and looked inside of it. He couldn't see what it looked like, so he decided to give it a sniff. It was the smell that lightly covered Jo, and more often than not covered his father. But he tried not to think about that as he took a large gulp-

And gagged, forcing himself to swallow it before coughing and covering his mouth with his arm. He could hear Dean laughing beside him, completely in hysterics as he leaned forward, slapping his knee. The group had turned around now, eyebrows quirked in interest before they spotted the beer can in Cas's hand.

"Aw, first time, Cas?" Ash asked with a big smile.

Castiel was too busy trying not to spit out the bitter taste in his mouth that he couldn't make himself answer.

Dean was gasping for breath, now, and once he was under control he put a hand on Cas's shoulder. "Ah, sorry, Cas," he gasped out. "Yeah, not many people like the taste. It's something you kinda gotta accustom yourself to," he explained. Castiel glared at him, now.

"Thank you for letting me know, Dean," he replied bitterly.

Dean gave a goofy smile, and now everyone was back to paying attention to the movie, each yelling out a whoop when someone had to take a drink.

"Here," Dean spoke as he took Castiel's drink. He put both their beers on a small table next to their couch. "I'll be right back," he told him, getting up to head to the storage room.

Castiel licked his lips and tried to pay attention to the movie, willing himself to get the bitter taste of dry bread out of his mouth.

When Dean returned, he sat next to Cas again, this time closer than before. Their legs touched as Dean handed Cas a bottle. "Here, try this. You might like the taste better," Dean offered, handing Castiel a pink bottle that looked a lot like juice.

Castiel stared at it suspiciously. He took it in his hand and observed it carefully. He could almost hear Dean rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, Cas, this one is good I promise," he spoke as he leaned over and popped Cas's bottle open. "Try it."

Castiel sniffed the contents of the drink. It smelled a lot better- like fruit. So he took a small, cautious sip. When his eyes widened with appreciation, he could see Dean smile in his peripheral vision.

"See, I told ya," Dean spoke, leaning back as he took a sip from his own bottle.

"What is this?" Castiel asked as he took another sip. A tangy taste with a dash of the bitter taste of alcohol danced across his taste buds. It tasted like lemonade with something else...

"Wine coolers. This one is raspberry lemonade," Dean explained with a smile. "Figured you'd like the sweeter stuff."

"It's... nice," Castiel admitted before taking another sip.

Dean smiled softly now, crossing his legs as he took a swig from his own bottle. "Glad you like it," he responded, looking at the movie, now. Hours passed and Dean and Cas watched in amusement as the group argued over their game. Castiel and Dean were dining on some pizza Jo had ordered and a box of Twizzlers from the movies when the group got to the end of their second Star Wars movie and called quits on the drinking game. After much argument over what was considered a "true insult" and what classified under the category of "cautious" and "whining", Chuck concluded the game with Ash and Adam as the winners.

So they continued to watch movies, and after a while everyone who participated in the drinking game was passed out drunk. Charlie and Jo were sprawled out on the biggest couch, a blanket draped over them, and Ash and Adam were curled up on the beanbags, limbs tangled ungracefully. Chuck was giddily taking pictures of his friends, murmuring to himself about how this was "so going on facebook" before he ended up falling asleep on the chair he had been sitting on.

By some time during his third Star Wars movie, Castiel had fallen asleep. He was woken up later, the DVD at the menu option and flickering its blue glow in the dark room. Dean had been shaking his leg.

Blinking, Cas came slowly to consciousness, murmuring something that he instantly forgot once he spoke it. He heard Dean chuckle.

"C'mon, Cas, my arm is falling asleep. Get up," he told him.

That was when Castiel realized that he was leaning on Dean's arm, his cheek propped against Dean's strong shoulder. He sat up with a start, dizziness enveloping his mind as he mumbled apologies.

Dean laughed again. "It's alright, man. I just wanna get changed," he whispered. Castiel nodded, blinking his eyes and trying not to rub them when he remembered that he still had his contacts in.

"Yeah, I'm g'na get changed, too," Castiel mumbled groggily as he got up and picked up his backpack. He stumbled around the basement until he ended up in the guest room, which contained a small bathroom. When he got in there, he took out his contacts and put them in their case, then brushed his teeth. After he was done, he quickly changed into his sweatpants and thin blue sweater, then tossed all his things into his backpack and walked back into the TV room, where he plugged his phone into his charger. Dean was already at their couch, lying on his back with his arms crossed underneath his head. Their couch turned out to be a futon, which Dean had undone so it could be big enough for him to lie on. When he heard Castiel walk in, he twisted in his spot and gave his friend a smile.

"Hey, Cas," he greeted his friend when Castiel made his way to the couch.

Castiel was rubbing his right eye freely, now. "M'ello," he slurred. He was incredibly tired, but he wasn't going to get on the futon unless Dean offered. So, just as he grabbed a blanket from the pile next to the couch and when he was ready to lie on the floor, Dean spoke up.

"Y'know..." he began hesitantly. "There's enough room up here for you," he pointed out.

Castiel looked at Dean, suddenly feeling unsure. "Wouldn't that be... awkward?" He asked.

Dean gave a snort, although he seemed quite flustered. "Dude, look at Ash and Adam. I don't think we could get much worse than them," he pointed out.

Castiel turned to look at the other two guys. They were basically lying on each other, now, their legs messily entwined and both snoring carelessly. "I suppose you're right..." Castiel admitted.

Dean patted the spot next to him, and Castiel sidled in, sure to leave room between them as he laid down and draped his blanket over himself. When he finally got settled, he realized he didn't feel very sleepy at all.

"Where is Sam, tonight?" Castiel asked in a hushed tone. He could hear Dean shift on his right.

"He's with Uncle Bobby," Dean replied, his voice thick with sleep. "Bobby is visiting us for the weekend. 'E said he'd watch over Sam for the night," Dean explained.

Castiel nodded, but felt his heart squeeze. "I apologize for keeping you away from your uncle," he whispered.

"Nah, Cas, don't worry 'bout it," Dean slurred. "He didn't mind. He's gonna be visiting a lot, anyways. He lives just outside of Lawrence," he replied.

"Oh," Castiel spoke.

It was silent for a while.

"So what did Ms. Madison give you for your birthday? If it's okay for me to ask," Dean spoke clearer, now. He seemed less sleepy.

Castiel shrugged. "I haven't looked at it, yet. It's in my bag. I believe it is a book or two. That is normally what she gives me for my birthday," Castiel explained.

He could hear Dean move so he was on his side, facing Cas. "How do you two know each other so well?" He couldn't help but ask.

Castiel glanced over at his friend. "We... well, we go to the same church," he answered before looking back up at the ceiling. That much was true, but it wasn't all of it.

Dean hummed in thought. "You're pretty religious, aren't you?" He asked out of random.

Castiel was silent for a while. "I suppose so," he whispered.

Dean snorted. "Y'don't really talk much about yourself, do ya? It's almost impossible to find out anything about you," Dean pointed out.

"Same goes for you, Dean Winchester," Castiel replied. Dean was silent after that. It seemed as if Castiel had struck a sensitive topic.

When he was about to apologize and say that Dean didn't have to tell him anything about himself if he didn't want to, Dean spoke.

"Happy birthday, Cas."

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed. "My birthday ended a while ago, Dean-"

"Shut up and go to damn sleep," Dean murmured jokingly, turning to his other side- facing his back to Castiel. "Night, Cas."

Castiel waited until Dean's breathing grew steady and deep, and the only sound that reached his hearing was the snoring of his friends.

"Goodnight, Dean."

* * *

**Yayyy n_n this took longer than I thought it would, but I hope you guys like it! I edited it a bunch, but there still might be errors, so please point them out to me!**

**thankyou all so much for your support. I'm doing much better, and I can't express how much all of you mean to me. So thankyou so much!**

**Next chapter should be up very soon! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	8. We're Getting Too Close

When Castiel woke up the first thing he noticed was that he was very warm.

The second thing he noticed was that it was morning.

The last thing he noticed was that Dean's_ arm was around his waist._

Trying not to jerk away in shock, Castiel felt himself grow deadly still. Dean's hand was pressed flat against Castiel's abdomen, and their free arms were practically intertwined, Dean's arm gripping onto Castiel's comfortingly. Castiel's back was right against Dean's chest, which was rising up and falling at a slow and calming pace. Taking a deep breath, Castiel looked around the basement, observing his surroundings. From what he could see, everyone was still asleep. Light was leaking into the room through cracks in the blinds of the two basement windows. From the amount of light that lit the basement, Castiel guessed it was almost noon.

Slowly, Castiel wormed himself out of Dean's grip. His blanket was covering both of them, now, and they had both been cocooned in it. When he finally stood up, Castiel turned to look at Dean. He tried to ignore his pounding heart when he saw that Dean was on his side facing him, looking completely and totally calm in his sleep.

Dean's chest had been against his back.

Dean's arm was around his waist.

They were pressed _right against each other._

Taking another deep breath, Castiel tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach and the squeezing in his throat. It's alright, they were asleep. They didn't know what they were doing. It was just an accident. It should be funny- Castiel should laugh.

But he couldn't help remembering Dean's hand on his arm at the movies last night.

That hadn't been an accident.

Shaking his head of the thought, Castiel went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, for he could tell he hadn't done a very well job of it the previous night. When he had that taken care of, he grabbed his toiletries and walked back into the TV room, returning his belongings to his bag. He took his phone from the outlet and checked it. To his relief, his father hadn't sent him any messages or called. Feeling his shoulders loosen up, Castiel put away his phone and pulled out his glasses to put them on so he could see clearly.

He almost wished he hadn't done that.

Now he could see every detail of Dean.

Dean's eyes were shut peacefully closed, his blond hair messy but still seeming perfect. He had one arm under his pillow and the other one on top of it, right beneath his cheek. His nose was dotted with freckles that ran along his cheekbones, lightly sprinkling them. Castiel could almost count each and every freckle that adorned Dean Winchester's face. He looked almost angelic, his full lips reddened with last night's drinking- his cheeks flushed with warmth and skin catching the glow of the morning light, which coincidentally highlighted the muscles of his arms as they rippled in the slightest movement he made.

Castiel swallowed thickly as he tore his eyes away, searching through his backpack for Ms. Madison's present. When he retrieved it, he tore open the wrapping paper and looked at the three books contained in it. The first one was _Finnegan's Wake_, by James Joyce, a book that Ms. Madison said even Castiel would find especially challenging. The other two books (_Tess of the d'Ubervilles_ and _Far from the Madding Crowd_) were by the same author, Thomas Hardy.

Ms. Madison had told Castiel of Hardy's work- describing it as tragically beautiful. He had been very enthusiastic to learn more about the author, but for whatever reason their conversations about him sort of ended. He was excited he got two of Hardy's books, and he grabbed _Far from the Madding Crowd_ and set to reading it as he laid down next to Dean.

After he had gotten thirty pages into the book, he heard Dean speak.

"Cas?" Dean mumbled, voice slurred with drowsiness.

Castiel turned to face Dean and gave a slight smile. The teen was squinting at him with sleepy green eyes, his lips puckered with sleep. "Good morning, Dean," he greeted him.

Dean took in a deep breath through his nose and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. "You wear glasses?" He asked, making Castiel laugh.

"Yes, I do," he told him. "Normally I wear contacts, but on the weekend I switch to glasses. They're much comfier," Castiel explained as he began reading his book, again.

He heard Dean squirm on the bed and yawn. "What'chya readin'?" Dean asked through his yawn.

"Far from the Madding Crowd," Castiel mumbled.

"Is that the present from Ms. Madison?" Dean asked, more awake now.

"One of them," Castiel responded.

It was silent for a few minutes. Castiel had almost thought Dean had gone back to sleep until the blond teen chuckled.

Castiel turned his head to face him as he raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked.

Dean smirked and stretched, popping a few joints. "You've got sex hair," he pointed out, making Castiel blush. "Your hair is... everywhere," Dean noted, smiling goofily.

"It's not very easy to tame," Castiel murmured, embarrassed.

"I like it," Dean responded.

Before Castiel could even comprehend Dean's words, the teen was burying himself back underneath the blankets as he closed his eyes, a lazy smile on his lips. "What-" Castiel began.

"You look good in glasses, too," Dean mumbled from beneath his blankets. "You should wear 'em more, Cas," he suggested sleepily.

His cheeks were warm before, but now they were on fire as his body tingled with butterflies. Oh, geez. Dean was just sleepy. He was hungover and sleepy and he didn't know what he was saying.

That was it.

Taking a deep breath, Castiel forced himself to focus on his book, again.

But he found that he couldn't.

"Dean?" Castiel murmured as he laid his book open-paged on his chest, turning his head to face his friend.

Dean didn't respond.

"Dean?" Castiel persisted, still gazing at the boy.

"Mhmmmm?" A lazy moan responded.

Castiel took a deep breath and sighed. "What did you say before?" He asked.

"M-didn't say anythin'," Dean yawned, nestling back into his pillow, not opening his eyes.

"Of course," Castiel whispered. "Sorry."

It was just something he said while he was sleepy and not thinking and Castiel should not take it seriously. It probably wasn't even really Dean talking.

Right?

At around twelve the whole group finally stirred into consciousness. Adam and Ash complained at one another groggily, telling each other to back off as they got on their wobbly feet. Jo forced herself up as she retreated to the fridge to grab everyone Gatorade for their hangovers. Everyone happily grabbed one, downing it with gratefulness. Castiel sipped slowly on his yellow Gatorade, trying not to let his gaze wander to Dean, who was now up and awake next to him. They had both fixed the futon back into a love seat, and now they were sitting on it, not looking at one another. They hadn't spoken since their weird conversation, and Dean seemed to avoid talking to Castiel overall.

Maybe Dean remembered what he said?

Maybe he regretted saying it?

What if Dean was repulsed by Castiel, now?

What if Dean remembered the position they had been in while they were asleep?

Castiel didn't even notice Jo had been calling his name.

"Cas!" She exclaimed. Castiel jerked back to Earth and blinked at her.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Do waffles sound good?" She asked, raising a dainty brown eyebrow.

"Yes," he responded, "waffles sound good," he told her.

Deciding not to pester him about his strange behavior, Jo made her way upstairs, followed by Adam and Charlie. After a couple of seconds, Dean got off their seat, and made his way upstairs to help. Castiel felt his gut twist inside him with uneasiness. Dean hadn't given Castiel any recognition since he'd fully woken up. He just glanced at Castiel once, then looked away as he fixed the futon. When Castiel had helped him out with it, it was in hopes that Dean would speak to him. It was all in vain, though.

Taking a deep breath to rid himself of the heavy sinking in his chest, Castiel put his book into his backpack. Chuck and Ash were watching the rest of the Star Wars movie from where they left off, and Castiel went over to join them.

About thirty minutes later Charlie called for them to go upstairs. They obliged, each heading up after turning off the TV and returning Charlie's movie to its case. Jo had made a large stack of blueberry waffles, which sat a the middle of an old wood dining table. Everyone sat down, and Castiel noticed that Dean had taken a seat far away from him. Trying to ignore the tightness in his throat, Castiel sat between Ash and Adam. He had to convince himself not to overthink this. Dean wasn't obligated to sit next to Castiel and talk to him at all times. Maybe he just wanted to sit with someone else.

_He doesn't like you._

_He doesn't want to be friends, anymore._

_Dean hates you, hates you, hates you-_

Castiel closed his eyes tight before opening them and grabbed a waffle, pouring some water into his cup from the pitcher on the table and drizzling some syrup onto his breakfast.

Everyone at the table was talking among one another, mostly about how they should do this again at Charlie's house, since she had the pool table. Castiel smiled along with everyone else, even though he didn't feel like doing anything but hiding at the moment.

Suddenly, Jo spoke up to him. "I like those glasses, Cas," she complimented. Castiel stiffened, and chanced himself with a glance at Dean, who was also stiff as he tried to look anywhere but at his friend.

"Ah, thank you, Jo," Castiel responded with a smile.

"Yeah, they're nice," Charlie agreed. "Kinda make you look like a mad professor or something," she pointed out.

Castiel tilted his head to the side. "Thank you...?"

Charlie and Jo laughed. "Nah, he looks more like the sexy librarian back in middle school, remember him, Charlie?" Jo spoke to her. Castiel felt himself grow hot with embarrassment.

"Oh yeah, I remember him. Y'know, you're kinda right. Although I found his assistant to be much more appealing," Charlie added with an eyebrow wiggle, making Jo laugh.

"Charlie, gross, she was like forty," Jo told her with a smile, shoving the redhead's arm.

"She looked good for forty," Charlie defended with a mouthful of waffle.

"She's right, there,"Ash defended. "She looked at least twenty."

"You _guys_," Jo moaned, covering her face with her hands.

And so the conversation about librarians continued. Castiel made sure not to involve himself, and instead pushed his half-eaten waffle around on his plate, not feeling very hungry. Dean had joined the group's conversation, talking animatedly with them, all the while ignoring Castiel.

After a while, everyone finished and Castiel helped Jo put away dishes while everyone went downstairs to change. They were washing dishes when Jo spoke up.

"Are you alright, Castiel?" She asked, stopping her dishwashing to look up at him.

Castiel paused, looking down at her. "Yes," he lied before continuing on washing and putting away dishes. "Why do you ask?" He asked her.

Jo huffed, turning off the sink when she finished with the last dish. "You seem upset," she pointed out. "I didn't mean to force you into hanging out with us and stuff," Jo told him. "I just thought it'd be fun to do something for your birthday."

"I had a great time, Jo," Castiel told her honestly.

Jo's hands were on her hips now as she gazed at Castiel sternly, forcing him to look at her. "Then why are you so sad? And don't tell me you're not, because that's complete and utter bull," Jo added. "You look like an innocent puppy that's been kicked, Cas. So what happened?" She asked. Castiel looked down then turned his gaze to look into her eyes pleadingly, but he knew she wouldn't let him go without an answer.

Sighing, Castiel ran a hand through his hair as he thought, turning his gaze to a nearby wall. "I don't know, I just," Castiel stammered, trying to think of an excuse. "I guess I just have a hard time being social," he explained. "It wears me out. I'm fine, though," he told her. "Honestly."

Studying his facial expression, Jo nodded, lips twisted into a stern look. "You don't have to worry about trying so hard at socializing around us, Cas," she told him. "If you wanna just listen to conversations or, hell, if you want to completely ignore us that's fine. Do whatever makes you comfortable for now. We're just trying to reach out to you. And we can go as slow as you'd like, okay? Just..." Jo broke off, looking down, then back up again. There was something in her eyes- something Castiel couldn't quite decipher. It almost looked as if she were trying to beg with him through her gaze. "Don't lock yourself away from people."

Castiel blinked, surprised at her request. "I won't," he told her.

"Promise?" She asked, brown eyes looking into blue.

Castiel nodded. "I promise."

Jo smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes. "Good. Let's go downstairs," she suggested, walking over to the basement stairs. Castiel followed, making his way down slowly. Everyone was changed into their clothes, so Castiel grabbed his backpack and quickly slipped into his clothes from yesterday in the privacy of the guest bedroom. He kept his glasses on, not feeling in the mood to change into contacts. Poking his eyes when he already felt like crying didn't sound too appealing, at the moment.

So he gathered his things into his bag and joined everyone in the living room. Suddenly, Dean looked up at him for the first time this morning from his spot between Adam and Ash. "I was gonna head out," he told Castiel as the dark-haired teen made his way over. "You need a ride?" He asked.

Castiel debated on saying no, but he didn't know where he was and calling his father was out of the question. "Sure," he replied.

"Alright," Dean spoke as he got up. "I'll see you guys later," he told them as he picked up his bag and headed up the stairs.

Castiel followed him, giving everyone a wave goodbye.

His heart couldn't be pounding harder.

* * *

The drive was quiet and awkward, and Castiel felt like jumping out the car the moment it started moving. What had he done wrong? Why was Dean so upset? Things were going great until this morning. And Castiel was pretty sure it didn't only have to do with the "sex hair" and glasses comments.

When they pulled into Castiel's driveway, he found the courage to speak.

"Did I do something wrong, Dean?" He asked, looking over at the teen, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion and his eyes prickling with the feeling of soon-to-come tears. He held back his emotions, though. He needed an answer from Dean. He _needed _to know what was going on.

Dean looked over at him, gazing into his eyes, his mouth slightly agape. He licked his lips and closed his mouth, turning to look at the steering wheel. "What are you talking about, Cas?" He asked, keeping his gaze away from him.

Castiel bit his lip, resisting the urge to say everything he's thinking at the moment. Suddenly all of his confidence disappeared. Why was Dean acting like this? Castiel couldn't be overthinking it, there was something definitely wrong. Maybe he should just leave Dean alone. That's probably what he wants. "Nothing. Thank you for the ride, Dean," Castiel murmured as he got out of the car. "I'll see you later," he told him before closing the car door and heading inside his home.

What had he done to Dean?

* * *

Dean needed to get laid. And it needed to be soon.

He was just drunk, that's what made him dream it. He was drunk and Castiel was the last person he talked to- that's what happened. His mind was just delirious- there was _no way_ he was into Castiel.

But having a sex dream about him says otherwise.

Sure, he felt an odd attachment to Cas, but that's just because he's his first real friend. There was nothing more between them. Hell, Dean was straight as they came. He's slept with more women than he can remember. It's impossible for his sexuality to just change so suddenly, _right?_

He suddenly had a flashback of images from his dream. Castiel beneath him, squirming and moaning and calling Dean's name-

No. No, he was not going to think about that.

He needed to sleep with someone. That was it. He just needed to clear his mind and _stop_ these thoughts about Castiel.

He'd almost gotten to sleep with Lisa, but now that he was basically enemy number one in Alastair's perspective, there was no way he'd be able to get together with her. They had only fooled around in the janitor's closet before. She had wanted him to take her on a date, but that offer probably didn't stand, anymore.

Well... he could try...

So he pulled out his phone and scrolled to Lisa's contact.

And then he pressed the call button.

"Hey Lisa- it's Dean. You still wanna go on that date?"

* * *

Castiel was trying not to text Dean. Why on Earth would he need to text Dean? He didn't need to feel like this- like he was having his mind twisted into horribly confusing paths by someone he cared about.

What he needed to do was distance himself. He had allowed himself to get too close to Dean. He knew that he shouldn't have gotten too attached.

Dean finally realized that he doesn't like Castiel. He finally realized that Castiel was only dragging him down to a terrible social status. He was going to leave Castiel behind, just like everyone else. That was why he wouldn't talk to him, today. It had to be why. He was sick of him and he regretted ever trying to befriend such a horrible and worthless person.

Castiel choked back a sob as he sat on his bed, his hands over his mouth as he gazed wide-eyed at the floor. He couldn't help but moan in shame and embarrassment when he remembered Dean's arm around him- his hand on him at the movies. He couldn't help but feel so _stupid _for thinking that Dean cared. Why would anybody care about him? Why? Nobody has before, why would it change? He didn't deserve to be cared about, and he _knew that._

Why the _hell _did he get so close?

_You're a burden._

_You're not worth his time. _

_Dean doesn't need you. You need him and you're bringing him down and you're a terrible friend._

_It's all your fault, Castiel._

_It's all your fault, it's all your fault, it's all your-_

Castiel gripped his hair tight, balling it into his fists as he squeezed his eyes shut. "No, no, no, no, no- stop, stop _please_," he murmured to himself, rocking himself slowly on the edge of his bed.

_Distance yourself, Castiel. Distance yourself from him and save him the trouble. You know you don't deserve him. Stop being selfish and leave him be._

"I will. I promise, I will," Castiel spoke.

_It's all your fault._

"Yes, yes I know it's my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Castiel moaned. He was crying, now. His heart was beating fast and everything around him was swimming.

Before he knew it he was fumbling through his bathroom drawers, blindly searching for what he needed.

And before he could even comprehend what he was doing, four deep cuts were on his shoulder.

_You are pathetic. You're not worthy of him. Distance yourself, you don't deserve kindness. _

_You're a killer. You're a murderer and it's all your fault._

"I'm sorry," Castiel sobbed, gripping the razor tight in his hand, slicing his palm open with the strength of his grip. He was on the floor, rocking back and forth faster now as he breathed quickly, trying to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, I know," he spoke, shaking with sobs. "I don't deserve him. I don't deserve them. I don't deserve _anything_," Castiel cried. "I'm so, so sorry."

He knew what he had to do. He knew he had to distance himself from them. He had to stay away from Jo, Charlie, Adam, Ash, Chuck. He had to stop talking to Dean. He needed to stop being selfish and spare them the trouble. They didn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve them.

_It's all your fault._

"It's all my fault."

It was always his fault.

* * *

They were in the backseat of the impala, and Dean was _definitely _not thinking about Castiel as Lisa's arms wound around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Yes. This was what he wanted. Of course it was what he wanted.

Lisa's lipgloss was sticky and tasted like strawberries. Her breasts pressed against Dean's chest as she moaned into their kiss. She smelled like flowers and candy and not like Castiel's clean shampoo and deodorant. Their kissing went deeper as their tongues battled for dominance, Lisa pressing closer to Dean, fitting a leg between his and pressing hard. Dean's hands were working on the buttons of her blouse as Lisa sucked on his neck, making him dizzy and making him forget.

This was what he wanted.

Dean removed her shirt, tossing it onto the floor of the impala as Lisa shed Dean of his t-shirt, pressing their bodies together as she panted into his neck, kissing him all over.

This was what he wanted.

Her skirt and his pants were shed off. They kissed and touched wildly, seeking attention and pleasure.

This was what he wanted. Of course it was.

But he couldn't help but feel like her name was not the one he wanted to moan. He couldn't help but wish for blue eyes when he opened his own and gazed into brown ones. He couldn't help but search for the dark and messy "sex hair". None of it was there.

This was not what he wanted.

But he was too far gone and too damn stubborn to back down. He couldn't feel like this towards Castiel. He needed to erase those feelings, and this is the only thing that will do just that.

So he moaned her name. He looked into her lustful brown eyes. He tangled his fingers in long brown hair.

This was what he needed.

* * *

**Woops sorry guys.**

**But obviously Dean gonna have to experience some problems with their sexuality and stuff.**

**Sorry for the angsty stuff with Cas, but I definitely know that after I've hung out with a group of people and I feel like one of them was mad at me/ annoyed with me, I get really bad anxiety attacks and I end up feeling like I'm the most terrible person in the world. Honestly, there was no way Castiel could have hung out with them without having some kind of crisis during it or afterwards. **

**But yes. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter.**

**The next chapter should be up soon, I think. Thank you for all the support. n_n**

**Don't forget to review!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~ **

**P.S. I really really appreciate all the supportive comments. I feel so great knowing I have you amazing and lovely people here for me n_n I love you guys and hope you're all always happy. **

**Have a good day :) **


	9. Keep Away

On Monday morning Castiel texts Dean and tells him not to pick him up. He then ignores the six times his phone vibrates with messages and calls as he walks to school on the cold November morning.

This had to be done. His affiliation with Dean Winchester needed to end.

Castiel had come to terms with what he must do, and he eliminated all the voices in his head telling him that this wasn't the right choice. This should have been done the first day they met. Castiel should have been more firm about the fact that he did _not _want to have any sort of friendship with Dean whatsoever. He should have told him straight out so that the blond boy would give up before he even started. If he had done that, he wouldn't have this gaping hole within him where Dean's short-lasting friendship used to be. Dean wouldn't have had to deal with as much as he had. He could have just continued to be friends with Alastair. He could have been safe and normal.

Castiel was so _stupid. _How could he have let Dean get as close to him as he did? How could he have been so ignorant? His need for companionship was what weakened him- it's what made him vulnerable. Now it was clear that Castiel wasn't what Dean thought he was. He seemed so upset- so _repulsed _at Castiel on Saturday morning. It hurt to be looked at like that by someone he thought he could trust. It hurt to be ignored by Dean- just like how he's been ignored his entire life.

Shifting his backpack as he walked into his school, Castiel let out a sigh. He was going to have to find a way to avoid Dean in homeroom, British literature, and lunch. It'd involve some quick maneuvering, but Castiel was sure he could handle it... for a while. Soon he'd have to tell him that he doesn't want to be around him, anymore. He'd have to do it quickly and with no emotion whatsoever. If he let his feelings show, then Dean would pester him continuously until Castiel spoke to him and told him what was wrong.

Keeping that in mind, Castiel walked into homeroom with his breath held and felt himself sigh with relief when he saw that Dean had not arrived, yet. He wanted to avoid seeing Dean as much as possible, even if only for a few minutes. Quickly, Castiel sat in his seat and pulled out his already-completed math homework so he could pretend to work on it if Dean tried to talk to him. Papers sprawled out on his desk and textbook open, Castiel began to write gibberish along the margins of his homework. Ten minutes after Castiel had settled, he heard Dean's voice.

"What the hell, Cas? Why didn't you answer your phone?" Dean asked as he sat in his seat next to Castiel. "I was callin' ya all morning," Dean told him.

Castiel bit hard on his lower lip and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them and busying himself with his math work. "I'm busy, Dean," Castiel replied gruffly, scribbling down nonsense in his notebook as he pretended to read his textbook.

Dean was silent for a few seconds, seeming shocked. Castiel waited for Dean to get angry and curse him out. He waited to be yelled at. He prepared himself for it.

What he didn't prepare himself was for what Dean said next.

"Are you mad at me?" Dean asked, his voice sounding almost hesitant with a slight tone of worry. Castiel froze, shocked. He quickly recovered and continued with his writing, pretending not to hear the blond boy. "Cas, are you alright-"

"I'm _said_ I'm busy, Dean," Castiel repeated, clenching his teeth as he tried not to give away his true intentions. It hurt to hear Dean sound all hesitant and panicked. It hurt to do this to him. But it had to be done. Dean needed to realize that he doesn't need Castiel. Dean needed to realize that he was better than that. He needed to yell at him and give Castiel what he deserved. He _needed _to abandon him.

Dean was silent for the rest of homeroom (much to Castiel's relief), and when the bell rang Castiel gathered all his things and quickly left the room in order to avoid walking to first period with Dean. His heart was pounding and blood was rushing through his head as he made his way to class. This was ridiculous. Why did he even need to do this in the first place? Why on Earth would Dean even want to be friends with him? This shouldn't have had to be done, because it simply _should not have happened._

Castiel swallowed thickly as he walked into his class and took his seat at the back, grabbing some tissues and wiping the water laid routinely on his seat.

Now that Castiel thought about it... once he had met Dean, the usual pranks done to his desk had ceased in this class. Could it have been because of Dean? Even when they weren't speaking, did Dean always find some way to take care of Castiel?

Shaking his head of the thought, the dark-haired boy kept his eyes on his desk, forcing himself not to peek at the door to see when Dean arrives. He didn't even look at him, today. He didn't see the confused look that probably consumed Dean's features. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep this up if he had to. When Dean walked into the room, he sat at his seat and didn't try to talk to Castiel.

Castiel allowed himself a peak at the blond boy. He looked resigned- deep in thoughts that were troublesome to him. He didn't even notice Castiel looking at him.

Maybe ignoring Dean would be easier than he thought.

* * *

When first period ended, Dean tried to stop Castiel so he could talk to him, but the dark-haired teen all but ran out of the room before he (or Ms. Madison, for that matter) could talk to him. Dean's jaw dropped as he drooped back into his seat, shocked. Why was Castiel avoiding him? What was up with him, today? Was he being so snappy with Dean? Had Dean upset him? Had he done something wrong?

Dean couldn't help but think about Castiel's question Saturday morning. He had asked if he had done something wrong. Why would he ask that? He had seemed so upset when he asked Dean that question... had Dean given off the wrong signal? After his... dream... about Castiel he had gotten freaked out. Every time he looked at Castiel he felt ashamed. So he tried not to. He just wanted to avoid too much interaction with Castiel until he could get those thoughts out of his head. He didn't want Cas to figure out and freak out at him. Maybe Dean avoiding looking at Cas came off as him being upset at him? Maybe Cas had taken it the wrong way...

Whatever the reason for Cas's behavior, Dean knew he had to sort it out. It had to be his fault. There was no other reason.

So Dean gathered his things and walked towards the door.

"Dean?" Ms. Madison called to him from her desk. Dean stopped in his tracks and looked at the teacher. "It's Dean, right?" She asked as she stood up at her desk.

Dean blinked. "Uh-yeah. Yeah, whatsup?" He asked as he faced the teacher, shuffling in his spot.

Ms. Madison seemed hesitant. "You're Castiel's friend, right?" She asked. "You're actually his friend?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, shocked at the question. "Yeah... we're friends," he spoke. "Why?" He asked.

Ms. Madison crossed her arms, looking from the floor to Dean, again. "Just... take care of him, please," she told him quietly. "I would appreciate that."

Dean opened his mouth, but he couldn't find any words to say. He licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah. I will," Dean told her.

Giving a soft, sad smile, Ms. Madison nodded back. "Thank you. You're a very nice guy, Dean. I'm glad Castiel met you."

Dean didn't know how to respond to that, so he just nodded. "Uh, I'll see you tomorrow, Ms. Madison," he told her, giving her a wave before he walked out the door.

* * *

When his History class was over, Dean made his way to Cas's class as fast as he could, trying to stop him from slipping away again so he could force him to walk to lunch with him. They needed to talk. They needed to clear things up. Dean's mind had been so goddamned preoccupied with this damn nagging sensation that he had done something wrong, he couldn't even focus in class. If he didn't settle things, he'd probably lose his fucking mind.

But when Dean got to Castiel's class, the blue-eyed boy wasn't there waiting for him. He had left.

"You son of a bitch," Dean growled to himself as he walked to lunch. He felt irritated, now. Whatever Dean had done surely couldn't be bad enough for Castiel to completely avoid him and snap at him like he had done. This was just ridiculous.

So Dean walked to lunch alone, but when he got to his table, Cas wasn't there. Charlie looked up at him and gave him a smile. "Hey, Dean!" She greeted him as he settled into a spot next to her.

"Have any of you guys seen Cas?" Dean asked everyone, ignoring Charlie's greeting.

They all looked shocked. "Isn't he supposed to be with you?" Adam asked between bites of his pizza.

Dean shook his head. "Nah, he's been avoiding me all day," Dean told them with irritation.

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "What'd you do?" He asked.

Dean groaned. "_Nothing_," he replied. "He's just been mad at me for no goddamn reason," Dean told her.

"I don't think Cas would be mad for no reason, Dean," Jo spoke up. "He doesn't seem the type."

Dean felt his muscles stiffen. Since when did Jo start calling Castiel "Cas", anyways? That was Dean's thing. He came up with the nickname. Only he could call Castiel that.

Blinking, Dean shook away the strange thoughts. It's not like he owned Castiel. Jo was his friend, too... why was he thinking like this.

"Whatever," Dean muttered, pulling out his lunchbag and tossing the extra one to the group. "Here's his lunch. You guys can have it since he won't be joining us," Dean told them as he pulled out his food.

Ash and Chuck dug in, but Charlie looked at Dean and smiled. "Did you steal his lunch? Or did you make him that?" She asked as she bit into a fry from her chicken basket.

Dean rolled his eyes. "He doesn't eat. So I've been making his lunch for him so he doesn't completely wither away," Dean joked, trying to make light of the situation. Friends could make lunches for friends, right?

Charlie rose a dainty eyebrow, but she didn't comment further. They ate the rest of their lunch in peace, not once mentioning Castiel's absence.

* * *

The air outside was getting colder as winter winds rustled through bare branches of trees. Castiel was bundled in his jacket as he sat with his knees drawn to his chest at the base of a tree. Soon it'd be too cold to spend lunches here, Castiel realized. Maybe he could stay in Ms. Madison's room...

No. She'd only ask why he wasn't eating lunch with Dean. She knew him too well. She'd figure him out.

Castiel sighed, his breath white in the rigid air. He could just bring an extra jacket. It'd be okay... it'd be okay.

A prickling sensation presented itself at the back of Castiel's eyes, and before he knew it hot tears were running down his face, instantly turning cold in the frigid air. Who was he kidding, thinking that he could make friends? Why would anybody want to be friends with him? He shouldn't lie to himself.

Still, though, Jo's words rang in his head.

_Don't lock yourself away from people._

Her words seemed so genuine... she seemed to actually _care._

_No, don't be foolish. She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand that you deserve to be locked away. You deserve to be isolated and left to rot._

"I know," Castiel whispered, wiping at his eyes. "I know, I know, I know."

It was all his fault. His mom was gone because of him. His father became a drunk because of him. Alastair's family had been ruined because of him. Castiel didn't deserve kindness. He's filth. He's not worthy. He needs to punish himself. He needs to let others punish him.

But friendship beckoned to him. It called to him with its promise of warmth and comfort. It made promises of a happy place. Castiel wanted to reach out to it- let it pull him out of the ice of loneliness. He didn't know how much longer he could stand this.

_You have to. What gives you the right to think you deserve them? You don't deserve anything after what you did._

Castiel whimpered, holding his head as he cried. "But it wasn't my fault," he cried. "I didn't mean to- I swear I didn't," Castiel told the voice as more hot tears made their way down his cheeks. "I didn't know that would happen," Castiel tried to explain.

_You let it happen. You let it happen and it's your fault. It will _always _be your fault._

Castiel nodded. "I'm sorry- so sorry. You're right and I'm sorry," he whimpered. When the voice didn't respond, Castiel quieted himself, taking a deep shaky breath as he tried to control the spasms that traveled through his trembling body. He couldn't have an anxiety attack. Not at school. He couldn't miss class and disappoint his father. He _needed _to calm down.

So Castiel took deep, slow breaths as he calmed his anxious breathing. There was nothing he could do about the tears, for now. Those seemed to flood out of his eyes. Once he calmed himself, Castiel swallowed hard and let go of his head. It was lonely, quiet and cold in the forest he sat in, but this kind of isolation seemed to calm him. He was doing the right thing, really. He knew he didn't deserve friends. And, in the long run, Castiel was doing them a favor, too. One more thing to add to his list of ways to make up for what he had done.

It was all his fault. And no matter what he does it will _still be his fault._

What if the group found out? What if they found out what Castiel did? Would they hate him? Would they forgive him?

No, they wouldn't. Who could ever forgive him? It was his fault, he didn't deserve forgiveness. He wouldn't let himself stray back to the group. They were all too kind to him- it made his heart sink with guilt. He knew he didn't deserve their kindness, yet he allowed himself to have it. Why did he do that?

He couldn't let himself go back to them. No matter how much he wanted to, Castiel had to keep away.

* * *

**Hey guys!**

**Next chapter this situation will get resolved, I promise. I know things are kinda slow and repetitive in this chapter, but I had to make it that way. Pay attention to every detail, because as we get farther along in the story I've been dropping little hints here and there as to what the major parts of this story may turn out to be like! **

**Anyways, I am in my dorm at college, now! It's lonely and sad, though :( I got really really lonely today and actually started crying, haha. I've had almost no communication with people for days and it's made me kinda depressed. Because, DANG, making friends in college is some hard work! It's literally almost nearly impossible and i'm too awkward to engage in conversation with people here.**

**OH ALSO I've made a tumblr for my fandoms/writing and stuff! n_n I felt like it'd be easier to talk to/interact with you guys on there! (since I'm sure most of you have a tumblr) **

**ALSO, you guys could leave me suggestions on mini-fics you'd like me to write (or long fics!) in my ask box and it could be ANYTHING you want that you haven't seen and would like to see! I also draw, too, so if you want I could draw you guys some stuff n_n**

**but yeah, my tumblr url is beesforcastiel**

**I'd be so happy if you check it out n_n I just made it today, so it's new and stuff but yeah. I've already kinda customized it and yayyy. **

**I hope you guys are having a lovely summer break and I hope your school year starts out (or will start out) amazingly! Sorry for talking so much about myself, a lot has been going on :c I'll stop, now**

**Don't forget to review!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**

**PS:**

**sorry for any grammatical errors! It's currently 3am and I'm so sleepy :C ahhh**


	10. I'm Not Worthy

When Castiel got home he was greeted by the sight of his father- sober- working on papers at the dining room table.

He should show him his test grade. If he showed him how he earned over a one hundred maybe his father would let him eat. Maybe he would be proud of him.

Castiel had been hesitant about showing his father the grade ever since he saw him Sunday morning. His father had been too busy to give Castiel the usual insult or grunt, for he was working animatedly on his client's case. Castiel was grateful for this, because that meant drinking around the house went down from numerous glasses of whiskey and beer to a glass of wine before bed. This had caused a calmer atmosphere between the father and son, and Castiel had even dared to work on his homework in the living room where his father was working that night. The man rolled a wary gaze towards the blue-eyed boy, but he hadn't commented on it, since Castiel made it a point to work very studiously. They had continued like that until eleven at night when Castiel had bid his father goodnight and the older man gave a grunt of acknowledgement. That recognition alone had given Castiel enough ease to fall asleep right away, slipping into a dreamless slumber.

So, encouraged by the thought that perhaps his father was feeling charitable, Castiel walked hesitantly to the dining table where the older man sat. "Uhm, Dad?" He asked hesitantly, his voice sounding shy and foreign to him in the quiet of the dining room.

His father must have been in a fairly good mood, because he didn't even try to correct Castiel's "dad" into a "sir". He looked up at Castiel from his seat, deep authoritative eyes meeting light blue vulnerable ones. "Yes, Castiel?" He asked almost boredly, his voice a deep drawl.

Castiel squirmed nervously in his spot, and pulled off his backpack to grab his math test. "Uh, I have something to show you," he told him as he pulled out the packet, placing it neatly in front of his father- being sure to position it far enough away from the numerous amount of scattered papers so as not to disturb them.

His father raised an eyebrow as he picked up the packet, looking at the grade on top, circled in red ink. Castiel felt a surge of self-pride. He had gotten a really good grade. He worked so hard and studied till his eyes wouldn't stay open and his brain wouldn't allow him to. Castiel had worked non-stop to get this grade. Maybe his father will take note on Castiel's effort? Perhaps his father would compliment his laborious work?

Watching as the older man skimmed through the packet, he noticed that he was flipping pages with a scrutinizing look- as though he were looking for an error the teacher had missed because there was "no way his son could have made this score". "How did you get the extra five points?" He asked almost angrily, critical eyes looking up at Castiel. "You didn't _beg_ your teacher for them, did you?" He asked in an accusatory tone.

"No, sir," Castiel replied fast, his heart beat loud in his ears. "No, I- uh, well I corrected a mistake she made on the test. She said nobody else had noticed it, so she assigned me five extra points."

"So you made a one hundred," Castiel's father remarked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Castiel felt his heart skip a beat and lodge itself into his throat. "Well, I made a one hundred and five-"

"And is your math average an A, now?" Castiel's father asked challengingly.

Castiel felt his shoulders droop as he opened his mouth slightly, then closed it. He looked down at his feet. "No, sir," he replied softly.

Castiel's father tossed the test back onto the table. "Then don't come telling me about this sort of nonsense until you do. I couldn't give less of a crap about what you made on a test," his father muttered as he automatically went back to his work as if he had wasted precious time acknowledging his son.

Castiel felt as though he had been smacked across the face, but he swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yes, sir," he whispered as he picked up his paper with shaky hands and made his way to his room. His heart was heavy in his chest and tears were running down his face before he could even close his door behind him.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid-" Castiel murmured to himself as he tore his packet in half, throwing the remains into his trash can. "So stupid, why did I _do that?_" Castiel murmured as he sunk onto the floor, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears as he took deep, shaky breaths.

Of course his father wouldn't care. Why did he show him? It doesn't matter what he got on his test, because it simply _shouldn't _matter! He should have an A and he shouldn't have to feel the need to show his father he was doing well. Only idiots showed their parents their good grades in hope for praise. He should _always _have good grades to the point where it'd be unnecessary to prove himself to his father. His father didn't have to deal with a reminder of Castiel's idiocy.

Taking another deep breath, Castiel removed his hands from his eyes and he leaned back against the wall behind him, letting out a long shaky sigh.

He needed to get his grade up to an A, again. he was _so close. _Castiel needed his father's approval and praise more than anything. His body yearned for it, his mind screamed for it, and his aching heart begged for it. Approval was all he needed to be happy, at this point. Acceptance was all he needed. He just didn't know how much longer he could live with just his own depressed and self-destructive company to sustain him. He didn't want the guilt approval that Ms. Madison gave him. He didn't want the approval he got from his (previous) friends- they didn't know the whole story, so their approval was merely in response to their own ignorance of the whole situation.

Castiel needed true acceptance. And he knew the only person that could grant him that was his father. His father was harsh and cruel and incredibly blunt when it came to his opinions and thoughts on Castiel. If he could truly manage to make his father accept him, then that would be enough to fill this hole in his chest. It would be enough to convince him that he wasn't in the wrong, and that he was worthy of acceptance.

Filled with a sudden motivation now, Castiel got up from his spot on the floor. He would stop at nothing to please his father. He would do anything for approval. He would do whatever it takes.

* * *

Dean had texted Cas after school to see if he wanted a ride. And, of course, Castiel didn't respond. When he picked up Sammy, the young teen was shocked.

"Where's Castiel?" Sam asked as he sidled into the passenger seat and closed the door behind him. "Is he still not carpooling with us?" Sam asked.

"No, Sammy, he's not," Dean replied gruffly as he pulled out of the middle school, making his way to their awaiting condo.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Are you two fighting or something?" Sam asked.

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. "_No,_" he replied.

"Well, didn't you see him in school?"

"_Yes, _Sammy."

"Did he say why he didn't want a ride, then?"

"Damnit, Sam, _no, _he didn't say why he didn't want a ride. He didn't say much of anything today, in fact," Dean replied as he stopped at a red light, cursing under his breath. He wanted to get home and try contacting Cas, again. He hated feeling like this whole thing was his fault and he wanted this damned situation to get done and over with!

Sam was silent for a few seconds. "So… you _are _fighting," he stated.

Dean turned up the radio, letting the loud music hint to Sammy to shut the hell up.

The boy took the hint and remained quiet throughout the drive.

When they got home, Bobby's car was parked on the road outside the house in the same spot that it had been in during the weekend. Their uncle had stayed over for the weekend, and Dean had been sure that Bobby was going to head back home while they were at school, today.

"Awesome! I didn't know Bobby was staying over today," Sam exclaimed with a smile as he got out of Dean's car.

Dean followed him to the front door. "Yeah, neither did I," he remarked.

They walked into the house to the aroma of fried chicken and the sight of Bobby sitting on the sofa, drinking a bottle of beer. "Hello, boys," he greeted them.

"Hey, Bobby!" Sam called, a bright smile on his face. "What're you doing here?" He asked as Sam and Dean both filed into the living room, tossing their bags onto the floor.

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Y'didn't think I'd leave you two idjits alone on Thanksgiving week, did you? S'far as I know, you two would end up lightin' the house on fire. What kind of low opinion do you have on your uncle, boy?" He asked. He was teasing Sam, of course. Idjits, in Bobby's vocabulary, was a term of endearment.

"Did Dad ask you to stay?" Dean asked as he looked at his uncle skeptically, a smirk on his face.

Bobby looked at Dean. "He asked me to keep an eye out for you two," Bobby admitted. "Not like he needed to, I was already gonna come over here for Thanksgiving whether you two liked it or not," he stated.

Sam gave a snort and made his way to the kitchen. "You made us dinner, too?" He asked.

"Eh, don't get used to it," Bobby growled at him. "I ain't your nanny."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam replied from the kitchen.

Dean sat down on a chair and pulled out his cellphone from his pocket. No messages from Cas. Resisting the urge to throw his phone across the room, Dean texted Castiel again. He kept it simple, since it was about the tenth text he sent to Castiel, today.

_Dean: Hey, man. If I did anything that pissed you off, I'm sorry._

He pressed send before he could change his mind, and then he shoved his cellphone back in his pocket.

"What the hell is eatin' at you?" Bobby asked him from across the living room.

Dean looked up at him, green eyes meeting blue. His eyes had widened at Bobby's comment, but he returned his facial expression to neutral. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"Well, for one thing, I made fried chicken and you didn't hop at it the second you got home. It's only been two years since I've been over, boy. The Dean Winchester I know does not ignore fried chicken," Bobby stated.

Dean sat up in his seat. "Well, what if I'm just not hungry?" He asked.

After a snort, Bobby replied. "Good one."

It was silent for a few seconds, then Bobby spoke up again.

"Tell me what's bothering you, Dean," Bobby repeated.

Dean let out a sigh. "It doesn't matter. It's no big deal, alright?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't give me that bull. If you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine. But don't go being all sissy-like and saying crap like 'it doesn't matter'," Bobby told him.

Dean kept his stare emotionless and hard. "Alright," he replied before getting up and picking up his backpack. "I'll be in my room," he told him.

"You need to work on your communicating skills, boy," Bobby called after him.

Dean rolled his eyes. The only one that needed to work on communicating skills at the moment was Cas. I mean, honestly, who ignores someone without giving a good and honest reason? Like, come on, what did that kid want from him? Dean had gotten so desperate for an explanation that he had even texted Cas saying sorry. Dean Winchester _never _asked for someone's forgiveness. He never had to, because most of the time he didn't care enough to get involved with people this much. Dean couldn't even remember the last time he said sorry before Cas.

Emptying his backpack contents on his desk, Dean got to work. He hadn't been paying attention in class all day because of the little bastard. Now he had to try and figure out what he missed and what he needed to work on.

But, of course, all he could think about was Cas.

After trying to work on his homework for forty minutes, Dean gave up and went to the kitchen to stuff his face with chicken and sneak a few beers into his room.

* * *

When morning came Castiel felt like doing anything but going to school. The thought of seeing Dean terrified him, and he _knew _that the blond boy would be pissed the next time he sees him. Thoughts of proving himself to his father was what eventually got him out of the safety of his sheets. So Castiel resignedly dressed himself for the day and made his way to school, being sure to take his time so he could get to homeroom late. When Castiel got there it was the second the bell rang, and he slipped into class as soon as Mr. Dawson was calling role. Dean looked up at Castiel from his desk, but he didn't say anything as he stared down Castiel, watching him until the dark-haired boy took his seat. Dean was still sitting next to him, Castiel noted. There was no way he'd leave Castiel be without an explanation, he realized. And he deserved one- he really did. But Castiel was _not _going to bring Dean further and further into his messed up life. He wasn't going to be that selfish, anymore.

Castiel shifted in his seat uncomfortably underneath Dean's penetrating stare. He knew that as soon as Mr. Dawson was done with attendance and making announcements he'd get pestered by Dean.

And he did.

"Cas, come on," he spoke to him. "What did I do?" He asked, facing Cas in his seat, looking at his friend with genuine care on his normally stoic face.

Castiel stared at his desk. Ignore him. Just ignore him, that'll be so much easier. It's easier than the guilt you'll get if you tell him the truth. A few minutes passed without Dean talking, again, and when the bell rang Castiel got up and made his way to the door-

Only to be blocked by Dean, who had practically raced Castiel to get there, first.

Dean grabbed onto Castiel's shoulder, stopping him from moving forward as he barred the doorway. "You're not running away from me again," he told him, an angry look on his face.

Castiel froze in his spot, shocked by Dean's touch and words. Although he was angry, Dean wasn't hurting Castiel with his grip. It was comforting, and Castiel's body ached for Dean's support. But he realized where they were and looked behind him where the rest of the homeroom was grumpily waiting for them to move, blocked from their exit by the two teens.

Dean didn't seem to care as he stared down Castiel, and the blue-eyed boy knew he had to speak.

"Dean," he said in a low tone, his voice gruff from not being used much, recently. "Let me through."

So Dean did. He grabbed tighter onto Castiel's shoulder and pulled him out into the hallway, placing him right against the wall to next to the door. "Talk to me, Cas," he whispered once the homeroom had walked away, each giving the two curious glances and whispering to one another. "Why the hell have you been ignoring me?" Dean asked, his voice going from a whisper to an almost desperate tone. Castiel felt his heart sink. Now's his chance. Now he has to tell Dean that he doesn't want to be near him, anymore.

But he decided he couldn't. He couldn't look Dean in the eyes and tell him to get lost. He couldn't tell Dean that he didn't want to be around him because _that was not true. _Castiel didn't want to say these things when his heart screamed the opposite.

He couldn't drag Dean down with him, though. That was the last thing he'd let happen.

"It's not of your concern, Dean," Castiel replied, looking into Dean's attentive eyes. "I would just rather be left alone from now on… specifically by you," he told him.

Dean's mouth fell open, but he didn't speak. He looked shocked- hurt- all the emotions that Castiel had dreaded seeing now marked Dean's features. His eyebrows twisted together, worrying his young face as his eyes grew big- searching for some error in Castiel's words.

Unable to handle the heartbreaking expression, Castiel took this opportunity to leave and walk as fast as he could to his next class.

It was over. Now Dean would never speak to him again.

Castiel knew he should be happy for Dean. He knew that now Dean's life would go the way it was supposed to. He knew that Dean and the others would just get tangled in dangerous situations if they were to remain close to him.

But the selfish side of him overtook his mind, and all Castiel truly felt was the need to end his life.

* * *

Class with Castiel had gone terribly. Dean felt like yelling at him. He felt like shaking Castiel's shoulders and demanding an explanation for his sudden complete shift in personality. Dean thought Castiel was happy being around him. He thought he made Castiel feel better, after being bullied so terribly by Alastair.

Maybe Castiel was never happy being around Dean. Maybe Dean had unintentionally dragged Castiel out of his comfort zone. Maybe Dean had forced Castiel to be his friend when, in all honesty, Castiel didn't want to be.

Dean had continually tried to make conversation with Castiel the first day they met, and the next few days after that. Then, almost a month after they met, Dean had basically kidnapped Castiel and taken him to his house where he force fed the kid. Dean had told Castiel that the way he could repay him would be to not ignore him. Maybe Castiel was just forcing himself to be friendly with Dean just as a way of paying back a debt?

Damnit, Dean felt so dumb. It was obvious from the beginning. Castiel seemed so silent and uncomfortable around Dean. Of course it was because he never wanted to be around him in the first place.

This was why Dean didn't try at this kind of crap. This was why Dean sucked at keeping up relationships with people, besides Sam. Who even needs friends, anyways? Dean didn't need anybody. He never did and he never will. Dean pulled himself through his life all on his own. He pulled Sammy through the chaos and all the while he kept himself together, too. Why was Cas so different than the others? What made that bastard sneak into Dean's field of interest?

Dean wondered and wondered and tried to figure it out. But he just couldn't seem to put the pieces together. Castiel was just a regular guy. Sure, he was weird and he talked like a kid from the damn 1800s at times, but in all honesty he was still just some random kid at one of the many random schools Dean would be attending. Why try and make a connection with the guy when Dean knows he'll more than likely be leaving in a couple of months?

Dean's mind had been so preoccupied, he hadn't even noticed Jo trying to get his attention.

"Damnit, _Dean,_" she exclaimed, punching his shoulder.

Grasping his shoulder- because, he wasn't going to lie, that _actually hurt_- Dean looked at Jo, a bewildered expression in his eyes. "_What the hell_-"

"We've been asking you where Cas is," Jo told him. "We asked like, ten times. What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked. They were all sitting at their lunch table. Dean had gone to check Castiel's math class before lunch but had come out empty-handed. There had been no sign of a messy mop of dark hair or startling blue eyes in the crowd of kids that filed out of the room. Dean hadn't seen Castiel since literature, and honestly he was too shocked by Castiel's news to even try and talk to him during that class. Castiel hadn't given him a glance as he walked out of the room, but Dean had stared down the kid with wide eyes, as though he were some sort of rare and magical unicorn. It was quite pathetic, Dean realized, and Ms. Madison had looked at him sympathetically and mumbled, "Give him some time," as Dean had walked out the door.

Those words alone were what got Dean to check Castiel's math class. Maybe this had to do more with Castiel than Dean. Maybe Castiel was going through more than Dean could even imagine.

He seriously needed to know the connection between Ms. Madison and Castiel, because it seemed as though those two knew something he didn't. It kinda bugged him that Castiel trusted his English teacher more than Dean, but he let it slide. He'd have to confront Ms. Madison sometime soon. He needed to figure out as much as he could about Castiel.

Something in the back of his mind told him that Castiel truly needed him, whether he admitted it or not.

Realizing Jo and the group were waiting for an answer, Dean shrugged. "I have no idea where that kid heads off to for lunch when he's not here. I bet he goes to the library or something. He's been really antsy around me- I don't really know what's going on with him," Dean explained. "He hasn't been the same since Saturday morning."

Jo and the others looked concerned at Dean's words, but Charlie wasn't even paying attention to the group as she gazed at the other side of the lunchroom.

"What're you looking at?" Adam asked from beside her, leaning around her shoulder to try and see what was so interesting.

Charlie's lips twisted into a small frown, and she spoke. "Does nobody else feel uneasy at the fact that Alastair and his friends aren't at their lunch table?" Charlie asked as she nodded a head towards the table on the other side of the room.

Dean looked over to where Charlie was gazing and found the table that he had sat at less than a week ago. She was right. It was nearly empty, no sign of Alastair or any of the bully's closest companions.

"That's strange," Chuck murmured nervously.

"Where do you think they went?" Ash asked, looking at Charlie, then at Dean.

Dean looked at the group, and realized they were all staring at him. He raised his eyebrows. "What? How am I supposed to know?"

"Well, none of us have ever had VIP access to Alastair's table, before," Jo replied sarcastically through a bitchface expression that could beat Sam's. "Where do you think he went, Dean?""

Dean gave a snort and rolled his eyes. "I _don't _know," Dean replied. "Why does it even matter, anyways?" He asked as he looked down at his sandwich, picking at the crusts as he tossed them around his spot at the table.

The table was silent, and Dean looked up at them. They were all sharing a knowing, worried look. "Wait, _what?_" Dean asked. "What's that look for?"

Jo turned back to Dean, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked genuinely worried at the thought that the whole table was thinking the same thing as her. "_So, _doesn't it kind of seem a little strange that Alastair and his strongest back up jocks all left lunch on a day that Cas skipped?" Jo asked, brown eyes searching Dean's.

Dean felt his blood shoot ice cold, and he looked back at the table. She was right. Gordon was gone as well, and he was the second worst to Castiel, right behind Alastair. Automatically, Dean stood up, pushing his chair back with a loud scraping noise.

"We're searching the school. _Now_."

* * *

Castiel was reading a book when it happened. He hadn't even heard them approach. The next thing he knew he was being dragged upwards roughly by his arms and pinned against a tree trunk, his arms bound behind him and around the trunk by beefy hands, making him drop his book into the leaves below him. After letting out a yelp and kicking around in shock, he noticed Alastair in front of him, kicking his backpack away and letting books and papers spill out of it as he did so. Then, without uttering one of his usual greetings, Alastair kicked Castiel right at his abdomen, causing Castiel to double over as far as he could, screaming in pain and gasping wheezy breaths into his burning lungs. Alastair continued to kick the bound teen and sent a few punches here and there, encouraged by Castiel's cries and desperate, breathless pleas. Castiel squirmed desperately as he tried to move out of the way of assaults he could not avoid.

After a strong punch to Castiel's jaw, the assailant lifted up Castiel's head by the chin, making the wheezing boy look into his eyes. Alastair's eyes were filled with malice, glaring at Castiel as though he were the scum of all things evil in the world. "You know what today is, Cassie?" Alastair hissed, venom lacing his tone. He let go of Castiel's face and gave it another punch in the same spot, allowing Castiel to let out another yell of pain and gasp in a breath before he grasped at the back of Castiel's head, grasping his hair tight in his hand as he bent Castiel's head back as far as it would go. The grip on Castiel's hair brought upon a searing pain in the boy's skull, making him hiss with pain. Blood trickled down Castiel's lip and painted his teeth, and he coughed, choking on the crimson liquid as it dribbled down his throat. His lip had been cut by his teeth when Alastair had punched him, and now that blood filled his mouth and laced his tongue with the taste of salt and metal. Alastair leaned in close, his lips nearly brushing Castiel's ear as he whispered, "It's his birthday."

He let go of Castiel's head again with a shove and gave his abdomen another kick, making Castiel curl up as much as the teen holding his arms would allow as he yelped in pain, his body pulsing with pain that spread from the area of affect to his fingers and toes, filling his body with a stinging ache. He thrashed in his tight and constricting bondage, the skin on his wrists burning as he twisted and turned to get free. Alastair punched Castiel's cheek, again, making the boy moan in pain as he coughed and let his tears fall. "It also happens to be the day she killed herself," Alastair whispered. "You remember, right? You remember how much my mother grieved after you took away her son?" He asked in an accusatory tone, kicking Castiel, again. "I have to go to a _fucking graveyard _just to say happy birthday to my brother! And It's _your fucking fault! _It's your fault that_ I have no one left!_" He yelled in Castiel's ear, making the teen cringe and whimper.

"I know!" He exclaimed, looking into Alastair's eyes with tear-filled blue orbs as he began to undergo spasms, his body shaking with pain and panic. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He cried out, trying to make Alastair stop as fat tears fell down his cheeks, overflowing in his eyes. He was in pain- so much pain. He wanted them to just leave him here to bleed and cry in peace.

Alastair growled and grabbed Castiel by the collar of his shirt, dragging him up the tree to meet his eyes- all the while the stranger holding his wrists gripped onto them tighter so he couldn't escape. "'Sorry' ain't gonna bring them back, Novak. It's all your fault. You killed my family," he hissed, his eyes filled with so much pain and hatred that Castiel couldn't look into them for too long, his mind drowned in too much guilt. Then, pulling Castiel towards him and shoving him back against the tree Alastair whispered something else. "Your momma killed my family, and it's all your fault. And, now, she's dead too," he whispered heavily, panting with white-hot rage. He smiled now, enjoying the look of pure self-loathing in Castiel's eyes. "How does it feel to know that you're the reason your momma is dead?" He hissed before letting go of Castiel and giving him more kicks.

"Please- Alastair! I'm sorry- I'm so _sorry,_" Castiel cried out, sobbing now as he gasped in painful breaths, choking on blood as he tried to fill his lungs with air. He coughed and cried out nonsense as the assaults continued. "Let me go! P-please, just let me go!" Castiel begged

"_Say it_," Alastair hissed. "_I want to hear you say it, you coward!_" He commanded.

Castiel shook his head, crying- his shoulders shaking with his sobs. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to say those words that constantly haunted him, day after day. He couldn't give in to them, because once he did there was no going back. He'd have a panic attack and at this point Castiel was sure he'd end his own life, if Alastair didn't do it for him. Another kick to his beaten body and Castiel broke, unable to hold up his stubborn silence."It's all my fault! It's my fault they're dead and I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry," he cried, completely in hysterics now as his body twitched and heaved with Castiel's thick breaths. Castiel was shaking all over and convulsing with heavy sobs, unable to get enough air into his lungs as he let out hard, wailing breaths of air.

_It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault._

That damned sentence was all that ran through his head as the punches and kicks came. It was all he could cry out. It was all he could believe.

* * *

Dean and Jo had agreed to search outside while the others searched around the inside of the school. They had checked everywhere- all around the bleachers, the gym track and field, and even the back dumpsters where Dean had found Castiel just last week. The boy was nowhere to be found. When Dean met up with Jo at the track, she was empty-handed as well.

"Damnit, where is he?" Dean asked, feeling really panicky now as he ran a hand through his hair, looking around him- as if Castiel would suddenly appear, unharmed and talking to Dean once again.

"Maybe he just went home?" Jo suggested, although she didn't sound too confident about the statement.

Dean shook his head. "He never misses class. At least, not from what I've learned about him," Dean told her. "I thought that he'd be out here, somewhere. He likes being places where he can be alone," Dean said almost to himself. "Did any of the others text you?" He asked.

Jo checked her phone. "No," she reported as she shoved her phone back into her jacket pocket. The blond girl looked around outside. Her eyebrows rose in inspiration and Dean could almost see the lightbulb go off over her head. "The forest! We haven't checked the trees around the school!" She told him, brown eyes wide.

Dean could have hugged Jo at that moment because _damnit _that was just so Castiel he couldn't even believe he didn't think of that in the first place. "Let's go," he urged with a pat on her shoulder and they searched through the forest that surrounded the back of the school. There was no time to waste.

It wasn't long before they heard the cries.

When they got closer to the source of the noise, they could see what clearly looked like a group of guys surrounding a tree, one of them kicking at it and-

_Crap._

Dean saw Castiel's head jerk forward from the other side of the tree and his legs kick as he let out a cry of pain.

"_Hey!_" Dean bellowed as he and Jo ran at the group of kids. They were concealed by shadows, but Dean knew too well who they were.

Before they could get to them, though, the group sprinted off, leaving Castiel behind, who drooped and fell to the leafy ground with a muffled thump. Dean got to Castiel and Jo ran after the group of kids, chasing them with inhuman speed. Dean grasped at Castiel's shoulders, lifting up the boy roughly to look at him "Cas!" He called out to him. "Cas, buddy, are you okay?" Dean asked, trying to get the boy's unfocused eyes to look at him.

When he finally did, Castiel looked horrified.

"No, no Dean please," he murmured as he tried to pull away. "Don't, just leave. Leave me alone," he begged, his voice rising in panic.

Despite how much it hurt to hear those words, Dean shook his head stubbornly. "Enough with that shit, Cas. I'm not going anywhere," he told him, holding supportingly onto Castiel's upper arms, now. Castiel had grasped Dean's right arm with his left hand, trying to look into Dean's eyes beggingly.

"Dean, _no. _I don't-"

Before he could finish, though, Jo appeared, out of breath. "I couldn't catch up with them- they got away," she panted. "I recognized Alastair, though. And I think I saw Gordon with him. There were two others," she reported.

"Jo, Cas is hurt," Dean told her. They could deal with Alastair later, but right now Castiel needed them. "Help me get him to the nurse," he instructed as he started to lift up Castiel.

But the teen wouldn't have it.

He started crying hysterically, pulling Dean down with all his might as he wailed. "Dont- _no_ Dean, _please!_ Leave me alone- my fault, _all my fault_," he sobbed, squirming on the ground as he tried to free himself from Dean's grasp, jerking this way and that and pulling at his arms. Dean's eyes widened as he sat with Castiel, putting a hand between the teen's shoulders as the other one grasped Castiel's arm, trying to calm him. "Not worthy, don't help I'm not worthy I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it, I _don't_ deserve i-it," Castiel sobbed, curling into himself as he wrapped his arms around his abdomen, now, breathing in heavy sobs as he coughed and cried and let out heaving, spastic breaths, his body shaking with the effort.

Dean and Jo were silent with shock, not sure what to do as the tiny boy cried. Then Dean came back to Earth and looked at Jo. "Go get the nurse. Bring her here, _now,_" he ordered her. "Tell her it's an emergency. I'll calm down Cas," he told her. Jo stayed still, though, staring at Castiel wide eyes, seeming terrified. "Damnit, Jo!" Dean exclaimed, and the blond girl started at Dean's frustration. "_Now!_"

Jo seemed jumped back to life as she looked at Dean, then Cas, then back to Dean. Blinking, she nodded and ran off.

Dean focused on Castiel, now, putting an arm around the sobbing boy as he put a hand gently on the side of Castiel's head, trying to get the teen to look at him. "Cas," he told him softly. "Cas, c'mon, look up- look at me. Let me see ya," he ordered him sternly.

Castiel shook his head fiercely, his hands on his face, now as he sobbed through his fingers, which were digging roughly into his his skin. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_," he cried wetly into his hands. "Don't touch me, don't help- I don't deserve it! I'm not good enough- I'm not worthy- leave me here, leave me here, _leave me he-here_," he sobbed loudly, ears tinged red and voice sounding nothing like the calm, gravelly tone Dean had grown accustomed to.

He suddenly grew angry at Castiel's words. The desperate cries started something up inside Dean and it made his body hot with rage. "Cut the "I'm not worthy" crap, Cas!" He yelled at him, grasping Castiel's wrists and yanking his hands off his face as he looked at the teen, eyes meetig red glassy ones. "It's all bull!" He told him. "Who told you that shit?" He asked, looking desperately into the sad blue spheres that gazed back at him. Castiel's eyebrows were scrunched together, his face twisted into a kicked puppy expression. It automatically reminded him of when Sam used to come crying to Dean, and it broke his heart. Castiel was still crying- his face was flushed red with sobs and tears wetted his cheeks and darkened his lashes. He looked like a mess. A broken, beaten mess. The worst part for Dean was looking into Castiel's eyes. They screamed with so much pain that Dean couldn't bear to look for too long. Castiel's sanity was truly shattered into a million pieces, Dean suddenly realized. Castiel was far gone and Dean never noticed until now.

Dean kept his grip on Castiel's wrists, even though it made the boy wince. "Whoever told you you're not good enough doesn't know shit, Cas," Dean told him intensely, gazing into blue orbs and forcing the boy to keep their gaze. "And the fact that you believe that crap is truly pathetic, do you know that?" He hissed, gripping tighter. "You _are not _unworthy of anything, Cas! Damnit, man, listen to yourself! Do you honestly believe that?" Dean asked, frustrated and upset with the words he had heard his friend cry through broken sobs.

His heart stopped when he looked deeper into Castiel's eyes and realized… he did believe it. He did believe he wasn't worthy of anything good- that he wasn't even worthy of living. Castiel truly meant every word he had uttered.

Dean automatically realized he had been going at this the wrong way. Castiel was still crying heavily, unable to breath in good breaths as he coughed and sobbed and heaved, his body convulsing with his panic attack.

That's when Dean knew what he had to do.

Sucking in his pride, Dean put his hands on Castiel's shoulders and pulled him in roughly for a hug, holding the teen tight to still him from his spasms, letting the tremors travel through his own body as he absorbed all the horrible shaking the tiny boy emitted. Castiel froze in Dean's grasp, although his body still quivered, and Dean could feel him give in and rest his face into the crook of Dean's neck as he tried to calm his breathing and let out the last of his sobs.

After a couple of minutes Castiel had calmed completely and Dean's shoulder was thoroughly stained with tears and other fluids. Dean still held him, though, until Castiel grew disconcertingly still and Dean pulled him away to see that the boy had passed out with exhaustion, the color in his face slowly starting to go back to normal as his breathing evened and his body went limp. Castiel looked completely fatigued in Dean's arms, and the blond boy felt his breath catch in his throat.

He found himself staring at the broken boy's bloody cheek and mouth and battered body. Dean looked back at Castiel's face and shook his head, trying to stop himself from crying, as well, his heart pounding sickeningly in his chest, making him want to throw up. Castiel hated himself. He truly believed all the things that Alastair had convinced him he was. And Dean had thought that Castiel's behavior had been his fault. Castiel was broken, and Dean knew now that the blue-eyed boy needed Dean to help repair himself. He now knew that this whole thing was a whole lot bigger than he was.

"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. "You really believe all that, don't you?" He murmured through clenched teeth, letting out a sigh as he looked away, unable to look at the terrible sight.

And Dean held Castiel until the nurse- a kind Jamaican lady that Dean had seen in the halls a couple of times- and Jo arrived, helping Dean lift the boy off of his lap and take him to the safety of the nurse's office (after Jo and Dean had gathered Castiel's discarded and scattered school supplies for him). Dean and Jo had to answer question upon question, and they told the nurse everything- how they suspected Alastair and his friends were the one behind it, how they were Castiel's friends and had gone looking for him during lunch when he didn't show, and how Castiel had been picked on relentlessly before by Alastair and his friends. The school records didn't contain Castiel's emergency contact information (since apparently he never turned it in), so Dean just claimed it was himself, and had a long debate with the nurse on how he was perfectly capable of taking care of Castiel and bringing him home to recover safely. Dean had argued with the nurse politely, using his charisma and reassuring tone until she gave up trying to tell him that he couldn't apply himself as someone's emergency contact without their consent and had agreed with a sigh. After checking his driver's license and taking his name and number and other contact information, the nurse contacted the school office with information on all that had just happened and getting official permission for Dean to take Castiel home. She gave the office Castiel's name, Jo's, Dean's, and Alastair's- after Jo and Dean had promised that _yes _they had definitely seen him hurting Castiel and that _no _they were definitely not lying.

After a long check-up where Jo was furiously texting the worried group to update them on Castiel's situation and Dean was standing by the door, watching the nurse's every move, the Jamaican lady concluded that Castiel had deep bruising and that he'd undergone a panic attack, which had caused him to pass out from bodily exertion and lack of oxygen. She cleaned up Castiel and wrote down some final reports before she rushed to the office, instructing Dean to take Castiel home and warning him that she and the school would be calling him very soon. She gave him instructions on how to help Castiel recover, and warned him again and again to keep his phone with him. They did not have Castiel's father's number, but she said she'd have the office search for it and report to him what happened.

So Dean and Jo helped haul Castiel into Dean's car, and they decided to drive him to Jo's house since nobody had been at Castiel's house and Bobby would probably bring out some guns and hunt for Alastair himself if he found out what happened. Bobby hadn't met Castiel, yet, but he was quite protective and Dean knew he'd try to take control of this situation.

Before they got to Jo's house Jo had called her mother and explained to her what happened so she'd be ready for them when they arrived.

And ready she was.

Ellen ushered the kids into the house. She had prepared a bed out of a foldable couch in the living room so they wouldn't have to carry Castiel up the stairs, and they laid him down and covered him in blankets. Ellen looked worried sick, but she took charge brilliantly as she prepared some food and water for Jo and Dean, and brought out some pain medication for when Castiel woke up. Ellen had told the kids to make sure Castiel kept the bottle, then called the school to inform them where Castiel was- after she gave a very long and heated lecture about the school's crappy bullying policies- and the school said they'd found Castiel's father's number and were currently trying to get a hold of him to have him pick up his son. They said they'd call her as soon as they finished contacting Mr. Novak, and they apologized continuously, with which Ellen responded with some profanity before she hung up with a harsh slam of the telephone.

Dean and Jo picked at their spaghetti as they sat near Cas, watching over their friend worriedly. Ellen joined them with a huff, sitting down at the table in the living room.

"Who the hell would do a thing like this?" She muttered, seeming truly confused and disgusted at the same time.

"Alastair would," Dean mumbled, shoving his plate of spaghetti away as he propped his chin on his hand, looking at Castiel with an almost angry face.

"Just let that boy wait until I get a hold of him, he's going to regret he ever-" Ellen began, standing up.

"_Mom,_" Jo interrupted her. "This is something Castiel's father and the school need to handle," she reminded her.

Putting her hands on her hips, Ellen raised her head. "Not if I'm around, it ain't. What kind of a father doesn't even notice his son's bein' bullied?" Ellen asked angrily. "The boy had bruises the last time I saw him, how did his father not notice something like that?" She asked.

Dean shrugged, although his stomach churned with uneasiness. Ellen had a good point, but Dean didn't want to think about that. "He's good at hiding things," Dean mumbled.

Not knowing what else to say, Ellen shook her head and sighed. "Well go on and eat, you two. Starvin' yourselves ain't gonna help no one," she told them before making her way out of the room. "I'm going to make him some soup."

Dean didn't feel at all like eating, but he was afraid of what Ellen would do if he didn't, so he forced some spaghetti down his throat to please her. After he had gotten halfway through his food, Castiel stirred in his sleep and then jerked upwards, letting out a terrified gasp.

Jo and Dean were instantly at his side, putting gentle hands on him as he squirmed and panted in the bed, looking around shakily as he jerked away from them. "What-Where am I?" Castiel asked, blue eyes wide with fear. "A-Alastair, what happened? Where is he?"

"It's alright, Castiel," Jo soothed. "It's alright, you're fine. You're at my house and you're safe. Dean and my mom are here, you're okay," she cooed, placing a hand on Castiel's hair, who instantly began to relax.

"What happened?" He mumbled, looking from Jo to Dean. Then his eyes widened, and he seemed to have remembered.

"Dean-"

"Cas, don't," Dean tried to interrupt, giving Cas a stern look.

Castiel shook his head, tears gathering. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's _fine_, Cas," Dean replied sternly. "Everything is fine. Everything is okay, just relax," he told him, green eyes looking into blue.

Castiel stared into his eyes for a long time, seeming like he had so much to say but he just nodded. That's when Ellen walked in with a bowl of tomato soup and a glass of water.

"Hello, darling," she greeted him with a sad smile. She placed Castiel's tray on the table next to him and handed him the bowl of soup, which he accepted hesitantly. "Glad to see you up. I hope you don't mind tomato," she said with a grin.

Castiel shook his head. "No- it's fine. Thankyou, Mrs. Harvelle," he mumbled holding the bowl in shaky, pale hands as he settled it in his lap and let the warmth travel through his fingers.

Ellen smiled again and patted Castiel's knee. "Now I need you to eat all of that and take some medication, alright?" She instructed. Then she turned to Dean and Jo. "You two, back away and finish your dinner. Give the boy some space," she ordered. The teens all obliged to Ellen's orders and she nodded with satisfaction before heading out of the room.

It was quiet as everyone ate, and Dean noticed that Castiel seemed grateful for the silence as the boy's shoulders relaxed and he mindlessly spooned soup into his mouth. He was deep in thought, and for the hundredth time since meeting Castiel Dean wished he could read the teen's mind. After they all finished eating and Castiel took his medicine, Dean decided he wanted to confront Castiel. He was about to ask Castiel all the questions that buzzed through his mind- only he was interrupted by Ellen entering the room.

"Castiel, honey, I just got off the phone with the school. They told me your dad will be here to pick you up in an hour. Just relax a bit before he gets here, alright? No getting up," she instructed him.

Castiel was shocked and terrified, but he managed to nod. Oh no. He had skipped school. His father knew about the bullying, now, and he'd be furious that Castiel caused a scene and ruined the family name. He was going to _kill him. _He was going to punish him and _oh God _Castiel didn't think he could handle much more of this, today.

"Cas," he heard his name being called. Castiel looked up to see Dean looking at him worriedly. "Cas, is everything good? You feelin' okay?" He asked, leaning forward in his seat at the table as he faced Castiel.

Castiel nodded slowly, licking his lips. "Yes. Yes, I'm alright," he murmured as he looked down at his soup then back up at his friend. "Dean… thank you," he spoke, making Dean's head raise with shock.

Dean seemed to know what Castiel was thanking him for, because he nodded knowingly. "It's no problem, Cas."

They were all silent. It seemed too early to touch the subject of Castiel's breakdown, and the blue-eyed boy looked thankful that they didn't bring it up. Instead, Jo informed him on what went on after he had passed out and she reassured him that they had collected all of his things for him and that it was waiting by the door. That bit of information eased Castiel's worries slightly, but he was still waiting for his dad apprehensively, his stomach upset with nervousness.

When the doorbell rang, everyone jumped slightly with shock. Then Jo bounced up to answer it and Dean went over to help Castiel on his feet, giving Castiel the bottle of pain relievers.

"Ellen wanted you to keep them," he explained. "She said they'd help a lot."

Castiel gave a sheepish smile. "Thank you," he mumbled as he slipped it into his pocket and allowed Dean to walk him to the door where his father awaited.

To Castiel's surprise, the lawyer didn't look angry, but genuinely concerned. He looked Castiel over and took him from Dean, pulling him into a hug. Castiel froze in his father's grasp, feeling his heart race with the initial fear of being assaulted. He didn't like the hug. It wasn't warm or comforting, but more of forced and awkward. "I'm glad you're alright, Castiel," he murmured loud enough for the others to hear. Castiel didn't respond, but stood outside with his father, standing right by the front door where Ellen, Jo, and Dean were all watching them curiously.

Ellen spoke up. "I'm so sorry about all that happened, Mr. Novak," she spoke. She was very genuine, but she seemed to be hesitant around the man. "If you don't mind, I'd like to help out with Castiel in any way that I can," she offered.

Mr. Novak gave a smile. "That's very kind of you, but I've got the situation at Castiel's school all sorted out. Thank you for taking care of my son."

Ellen didn't seem happy with his response, but she gave a forced smile. "Castiel is like family to us, sir. We'll help out anytime," she told him. Castiel was shocked at her words, but he felt warmth travel through him. They cared. Even after all he had put everyone through, Jo and her mother and Dean still cared. And from what Jo had told him earlier, so did the rest of the group. He felt uncertainty try to shove the thought of friendship out of his mind, but he managed to keep it there. As tough as it would be, Castiel would be sure to try and allow himself to make friends. He would give them a chance, since they had been kind enough to give him one.

Castiel's father gave a nod, squeezing Castiel's shoulder uncomfortably tight, making him fight back the urge to wince. "Thankyou, Mrs. Harvelle. That's ever so thoughtful. Now, I must take Castiel home. He'll need his rest if he is to be going back to school, tomorrow," he explained, pulling at Castiel's shoulder.

Dean handed Castiel his backpack, and the scrawny boy took it. "Thanks," he murmured, looking at Dean then down at the floor, letting his gaze wander everywhere but at his father.

Dean gave him a stiff smile. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, kay?" He whispered so only Castiel could hear.

Castiel gave a slight smile as he looked back up at Dean and nodded.

"Have a good night!" Castiel's father called as he all but dragged his son to his car.

And Dean watched him drive away, feeling a stirring in his gut- like there was so much left unsaid.

* * *

**This is my longest chapter! I dont know when the next one will be up because i'm quite busy with homework! But I'll try and get it up soon! In the meantime, i hope you guys appreciate this long chapter to read while you wait n_n i hope it answers some questions.**

**Thanks so much for such lovely reviews! Literally the best part of my day is reading them! I get so excited ahhhh you're all ever so lovely and great!**

**Thanks again!**

**And thanks to those who followed my tumblr! :D I had SO much fun chatting with you guys! If any of you wanna follow, it's .com**

**I follow back and interact with you guys a lot on there n_n it's easier to talk there than here.**

**Anyways,**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	11. Author's Note

Hey guys!

So I edited/ fixed the previous chapter! I added a couple of minor details and overall fixed my God-awful writing. I apologize for the terrible writing for my last chapter, I was basically half asleep when I wrote a majority of it and ahhh I promise not to do that, again!

But yeah, if you guys would want to read it again, you can!

I'm gonna take this author's note to respond to some comments :) So if you've been commenting, then you might wanna read this/search for your username.

SPOILER WARNING

* * *

Wolfa Moon: To your comment suggesting why Castiel doesn't run away, it's because until a child is 18, they are under the care and custody of their legal parent/guardian. If you are to run away, you could be brought before a judge as either a delinquent or become classified under the "Child In Need of Services" case. You could also be held in an institution for minors or put into a foster home (both of which are terrible environmental situations for kids, especially if they are experiencing all the mental disorders Castiel is currently going through). Basically, to sum it up, Castiel knows all this, and he knows that his father will put him through this and make Castiel's life a living hell if he manages to end up living with his father, again. Also, he's too afraid to take the risk of reporting his father. If his dad were to end up convincing judges that he does not abuse Castiel, what do you think that he'd end up doing to him? It's a very complicated situation that actually happens a lot more in society than we'd think. Children stay with abusive parents or an abusive parent more out of the need for support than their actual fear.

But yeah, hope that cleared that up n_n

* * *

kathrynmcmillan169 (and a few other commentors/ people PMing me): Don't worry! You will find out what the note says soon enough. And it won't be in a bad way, Castiel will actually end up showing it to Dean when the two get closer. (spoilers?... I think).

Also, Castiel's mother's death definitely does play into Alastair hating him. Let's just say that when she died, it caused Alastair's brother to die and the whole incident was kinda linked to Castiel in a very tiny way that definitely gets blown out of proportion. But when devastating things happen, humans tend to look for something to blame. And, in this case, it was Castiel.

* * *

To most commentors: YOU WILL FIND OUT WHAT CASTIEL DOES SOON I PROMISE. (i've had like 20 comments like that).

* * *

SterekFreak: about your comment on Castiel needing a relationship with Ellen, don't worry- it'll happen! Those two will definitely grow to be very close as the story continues, and pretty soon Jo and Ellen will be just as close to Castiel as Dean will be.

* * *

SpicyTacos: The fact that you and your friend and your sister all read this literally just made me inexplicably happy for reasons I cannot explain. Like, wow, I just really really like the thought that you all probably read it and i dunno ohmygoodness thankyou for giving this story a chance ahhh

* * *

BabyTheImpala: Thankyou for giving my story a chance! I know what you mean, I'll put stories I wanna read on hold a long time and eventually I'll just give up on trying to read them! But I'm so glad you decided to read my fic and I hope I don't disappoint you! Congratz on your nine months and I will definitely PM you if need be n_n

* * *

Basically, massive thanks to everyone commenting! You've all become like family to me (literally, you're all my favorite people) and I've practically memorized all your usernames you guys are just so great! Whenever I feel doubts about my writing you guys convince me otherwise and I wouldn't have gotten this far into the story if it wasn't for you all!

So thank you for taking time out of your day to read this and I seriously wish I could write superlong replies to each and every comment! You're all so great, and I'll be SURE to bring the next chapter very soon!

NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE LIGHTER AND NOT TOO ANGSTY I THINK YOU GUYS DESERVE A BREAK FROM THE ANGST PARADE

Also, you guys could leave suggestions on things you'd like to see in the story! n_n I honestly get some of my best scenes in my stories from suggestions in reviews, no matter how small the suggestions might be! y'never know, maybe your idea will get into the story.

Again, thank you for the support :) I'll start writing the next chapter, now!

Goodbye, lovelies!~


	12. Mr Dawson's Hairpiece

The drive back was silent. Castiel's father didn't utter a word as he stared out the windshield, directing his fancy black BMW smoothly through roads on the drive to their home. Castiel felt nervousness itch at his stomach and he tried his hardest not to burst out crying and apologizing to his father then and there.

He had wanted so bad to please him. He had tried so hard to be a good son. But he always screws it up. He always ends up being a disappointment. Castiel's heart hammered in his bruised chest and he fought back the familiar sting in his eyes.

When they finally got home and went into the quiet cold of their house, Castiel couldn't be more nervous. Suddenly, his father stopped walking and turned to face Castiel.

"Bed- _now_," he ordered, disgust prominent on his face.

Castiel cringed at his father's tone and he nodded fast, making his way to his room as he heard his father mutter insults behind him.

When he got to the safety of his room Castiel stood there for a moment, trying to recollect all that had happened in the past few hours. Taking a deep breath, he walked into his bathroom and gingerly removed his jacket and sweater to look in the mirror, assessing the damage. His torso was bruised horribly, his flesh reddened and splotched with purple and blue. His cheek had swollen, so Castiel took to applying some ointment on it after he bathed. He didn't feel like doing much of anything, tonight. Today had been surreal, and thousands of thoughts swirled through his head to the point where Castiel just wanted to sleep to silence them.

Taking another pain reliever, although the bottle advised one ever four to six hours, Castiel felt drowsiness envelop and the promise of numbed thoughts enter his mind, and he buried himself in his sheets, eyes falling closed as unconsciousness came.

* * *

When Castiel climbed into the passenger seat of Dean's car, the blond boy was beaming. "Hey, Cas!" He exclaimed with a smile, making the dark-haired boy smile, as well.

"Hello, Dean," he greeted as he buckled his seat belt, then looked back at Sam. "Hello, Sam."

"Hey, Castiel," Sam greeted with a smile as he looked up from a book from his seat in the back. Dean started up the car, and they drove to school.

"So, what're you doin' for Thanksgiving, Cas?" Dean asked as he glanced at his friend before looking back at the road.

Today was the last day before Thanksgiving, tomorrow, and Castiel was relieved. He needed a break from school, even if it was only four days long. They wouldn't be doing much in school, today, since most students left early to go travelling in oder to visit relatives for the holiday. Castiel gave a shrug in response to the question. "I am not quite sure," he replied. "I thought I'd just study a little and catch up on some sleep," he pondered.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you gonna have a Thanksgiving dinner?" Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head no. "My father is busy with a case over in Kingsdown, so he won't be home for Thanksgiving. He's leaving at two, today," Castiel replied. He never really had Thanksgivings at his home. The only time he and his father celebrated Thanksgiving was when they had members from their church over. "I believe I'll be alone throughout the break," Castiel reported. He was happy about this. Being alone meant not having the possibility of being abused by his father, and that was the best Thanksgiving Castiel could imagine.

Almost the best.

"Well, what about your mom?" Dean asked. "Isn't she gonna be there?" He suggested.

Castiel gave a humorless smirk. "No… no, I don't believe she'll be able to make it, either," he responded.

"You know, you should come over to our house for the break," Sam interrupted from the backseat. "It'd be better than being alone for four days," Sam added.

Castiel raised his eyebrows. Thanksgiving at the Winchester's house… the idea raised up Castiel's hopes and made him excited, but he tried to hide it. "Won't I be interrupting your family dinner?" Castiel asked shyly.

Dean laughed from behind the wheel, pulling into Sam's middle school. "The only ones that'll be there'll be Uncle Bobby, Sam and me," he explained as Sam slipped on his backpack. "What do you say, Cas?" He asked. "You're more than welcome to stay over if you want," he added, seeming almost as though he was trying hard not to be hopeful.

Castiel smiled. "That would be nice," he responded. "Are you sure it's no trouble?" He asked, making sure that he wouldn't be intruding. The last thing he wanted to do was leave a bad impression on the Winchester family.

"Course not!" Dean responded. "You're gonna have to help with the cooking, though," Dean challenged. "The more help the better."

Castiel smiled wide, now. "I could do that."

"Awesome!" Sam replied, seeming ecstatic. "Alright, well I'll see you guys later," he called as he got out of the impala, shutting the door behind him.

They bid Sam a farewell and drove off to school, talking animatedly about what they'd do over the break after Dean _completely_ convinced Castiel that he _definitely_ should stay all four days. Dean had suggested an Indiana Jones movie marathon the day after Thanksgiving, and he said that they could try seeing if the group would want to come over, as well. Castiel agreed with that suggestion happily, and Dean grinned brightly at Castiel's enthusiasm. They walked to homeroom together, chatting the whole way there and all throughout the attendance, much to Mr. Dawson's distaste. When Castiel had told Dean he had never watched Mission Impossible (a movie series Dean was completely obsessing about when they had been on the topic of movies) Dean was completely shocked and declared that they'd _have _to find a free night during the break for the two of them to watch all the movies. Castiel had felt a tingling in his stomach at the thought of staying up with just Dean to watch movies, but he let it slide, agreeing with a smile.

Their conversations continued on until literature, when Ms. Madison had hushed them with a assertive smile. Castiel was in a brilliant mood as he smiled to himself in his seat. He was going to spend all of Thanksgiving break at Dean's house. They have only known each other for a little while, and already the two have connected greatly. It felt strange, to be close to someone- to talk to someone and have them smile at you and pay attention to what you say with true interest. Castiel realized he loved the feeling, and he wondered why he had ever let the voices in his head take that away from him. He would _never_ let that happen, again.

When Dean picked up Castiel from his trigonometry class so they could walk to lunch together, he was in a great mood. Castiel never thought he had seen Dean so happy, and it filled him with an inexplicable warmth. They got to their lunch table and everyone there greeted Cas enthusiastically, not at all mentioning the obvious bruising on his cheek that matched with his older bruising or the fact that he hadn't sat with them in the past two days. Castiel appreciated the silence on the topic as he joined his friends.

Castiel sat between Dean and Charlie, and suddenly a bagged lunch was placed in front of him. He looked over at Dean, who looked up at Castiel.

"You still packed me a lunch?" Castiel asked, feeling his heart constrict in his chest as he looked into Dean's eyes.

Dean shrugged as he looked down at his own lunch, unwrapping his sandwich as he shied away from Castiel's gaze. "I still packed you one when you weren't sitting with us," he said nonchalantly. "Just in case or whatever," he added.

Castiel felt his heart squeeze and he smiled. "Thank you, Dean," he spoke before digging into his lunch. Castiel had been living off of whatever candy was left over after the sleepover, and he never thought he'd end up hating candy so much. So he took a bite into his ham and cheese sandwich and resisted the urge to let out a satisfied noise.

Dean talked about his movie marathon idea to the group, and they agreed enthusiastically, each trying to think of ways to get out of hanging out with their grandparents and other clingy relatives. Castiel felt great sitting with his friends, and pretty soon he completely forgot about yesterday's antics- mind the small probes of pain he'd feel in his abdomen every time he moved suddenly. Castiel was very sore and he tried very hard to hide it- even though the slightest most simplest movements could have him cringing. But even that wasn't enough to spoil his good mood.

Alastair coming up to him while Castiel was getting some napkins, backed up by Gordon was what did, though.

Castiel automatically felt his heart jump into his throat, and he froze in his spot, wide eyes glued on Alastair.

"Hello, Novak," Alastair greeted, a sneer on his face. A couple of people walking by Castiel seemed to notice the two, and some kids even stopped to watch them with interest, expecting a good show.

"Alastair-" Castiel began, his voice shaky.

"Do you have any idea the kind of trouble you got me in? You little _snitch_," he suddenly growled, taking a step towards Castiel. "I got fucking _kicked off the track team_," the teenager exclaimed, making Castiel cringe. "And now the fucking office is currently debating my suspension time," he told him, taking another step towards Castiel. "All because you couldn't keep your mouth shut," he sneered.

"I didn't-"

"_Shut up_," Alastair hissed. "You _really _screwed yourself over Novak. You'd better watch your back, because you won't even see what I-"

A hand put itself on Castiel's shoulder, and the boy jumped in shock, turning around to see Dean, Jo, Chuck, Ash, Adam, and Charlie all backing him up.

"Sorry, Alastair, what were you saying?" Jo asked sweetly, giving him a smile as she raised her eyebrows.

Scowling, Alastair puffed out his chest. "Fuck off, Harvelle. This ain't your business," Alastair spoke, anger in his voice.

"Oh, I think it is," Dean replied. "In fact, it's actually all of our business," he added. "Because if you mess with Castiel again, then you're gonna have to go through all of us."

Alastair rolled his eyes, and Gordon gave a laugh. "Yeah, some challenge that'll be," Alastair snorted, sizing up Castiel and his friends with his bored gaze.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Really, now?" He asked as he jutted out a lower lip and made his best thoughtful face. "Because, if I'm remembering correctly, you didn't do too hot on our last one on one, Alastair," Dean recalled with a taunting smile.

Alastair's eyes widened, but he hid his expression quickly. "You just got lucky, Winchester. You don't stand a chance," he challenged.

"Oh, I think I do," Dean replied, staring down Alastair. The two teens held their gaze, and the commons had grown silent, only a few whispers humming throughout the crowd of students at tables. More people had gotten up to watch the commotion, crowding around the teens. Eventually Dean broke his death gaze with Alastair to put a hand on Cas's shoulder, again. "C'mon, Cas, let's go," he instructed him, urging him away from Alastair with a gentle pull. Castiel followed, his heart hammering in his chest.

"You're gonna have to stop hiding behind Winchester sooner or later," Alastair taunted. "And when you do you'd better bet I'm gonna come after you," Alastair called to Castiel. When they didn't turn around, Alastair seemed annoyed. "_Fag,_" he called out, making Castiel cringe as Dean's hand tightened on his shoulder.

Automatically, Dean turned around. "What did you call him?" He asked, letting go of Castiel's shoulder as he stepped forward.

Alastair stood his ground, a smirk on his face as Dean walked over to him. Castiel ran up to Dean and grasped his arm tight, trying to pull him back. "Dean, forget about it. He's not worth it," Castiel murmured so only Dean could hear, but the blond ignored him.

"I called him a _fag_," Alastair spat out, smiling wider when Dean tensed at the word. The two were only a couple inches apart, now, face-to-face. "An ugly, dumb, worthless, cockloving _fa_-"

Alastair couldn't finish his insult before Dean had punched him clean on the cheek, sending the boy down. The crowd was cheering with excitement now as Alastair got back up and wailed at Dean, missing- _of course_- before Dean punched him on the face, again. Alastair fell with a heap, and a shocked Gordon made his way towards Dean, a glare on his face.

"Dean!" Castiel called out as he tried to separate the two, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder as he tried to push him back. Dean wasn't listening, though. He was livid, his eyes enraged as he fought off Gordon, now. The bigger man managed to get a hit right on Dean's eye, and Dean quickly retaliated, punching Gordon under his chin, making him bite on his tongue and let out a fowl curse. Adam and Ash were trying to pull Dean away, now, and Castiel could see Alastair coming at the blond boy again, fist raised. Dean couldn't see him, too preoccupied with Gordon, Ash, and Adam.

Castiel threw himself in front of Alastair, intending to try and persuade him to stop. But Alastair hadn't noticed Castiel, and was already swinging-

And socked him right on the nose.

Castiel went down with a yell as a burst of pain traveled throughout his face, his nose gushing out blood as he frantically put his hands over it, blood trickling through his fingers and out his hands.

That's what eventually got Dean to stop as he made his way to Castiel, yelling out his friend's name. He knelt in front of him as Ash and Adam held Gordon and Alastair back. The two seemed satisfied, though, and didn't try and advance on them.

"Cas, shit, I'm sorry," Dean apologized, putting a hand on Castiel's wrist as he gently tried to get Castiel to remove his hands, his green eyes filled with fear.

"It's fine, Dean, I'm-"

"_What _is going on, here?" A shrill voice asked. Panicked voices filled the crowd as people hurriedly retreated to their tables, leaving Gordon, Alastair, Dean, and Castiel at the center of attention. The principal- a short yet feisty woman named Ms. Darvill, was making her way to the boys, followed by a very worried looking Ms. Madison. The group was still near Dean and Cas, and Jo began to explain frantically.

"Return to your seat, Ms. Harvelle, I wasn't asking you," Ms. Darvill interrupted. She looked at Charlie, Ash, Adam and Chuck, who were standing frozen behind Jo. "_All of you_," she snapped at the group. Giving Dean and Cas a worried look, the group returned to their table. "You four, get your things and then come back here. We're going to my office, _now_."

So Dean helped up Cas, lifting him up by his elbow as he placed a hand on his back to steady him- which Castiel was grateful for, because he was getting dizzy, now, as he stumbled slightly on his feet. Once he was up they made their way to their table to get their backpacks. Jo handed Castiel some napkins which he accepted with a weary smile, holding them against his nose as he made his way towards Ms. Madison and Principal Darvill with Dean. Gordon and Alastair were already there, giving Cas and Dean glares that were so filled with menace it could kill them on the spot.

They all made their way to the principal's office, Ms. Madison walking behind them as Ms. Darvill lead the way. Castiel was panicking, an arm wound around his abdomen as he tried to ease his churning stomach. Oh, God, what would his father do if he found out Castiel got sent to the principal's office? Dean could tell Castiel was panicking, because he brushed his arm against Castiel's in a form of comfort. Castiel looked up at Dean, and the blond boy gave him a reassuring, if not slightly sheepish, smile. "It's alright, Cas," he whispered so only Castiel could hear. "I'll get ya out of this, I promise," Dean reassured.

Castiel gazed into Dean's eyes for a few seconds before he nodded, returning his gaze back to the floor. Dean's words calmed him slightly, but he was still worried. This wasn't supposed to happen. Castiel wasn't supposed to get anybody involved in this. He was supposed to take it by himself.

When they got to the principal's office she had them sit down in front of her desk, Gordon and Alastair on the left, Dean and Cas on the right, a justifiable space between the two pair's chairs. Ms. Madison stood between them, and Castiel could feel himself cringe at her presence as he sunk into his seat. Ms. Darvill, who was seated in a comfy-looking leather chair, spoke up.

"Ms. Madison, you happened to pass the cafeteria when this took place. Could you explain to me what you saw, exactly?" She asked.

"Of course," Ms. Madison replied, her voice seeming strained. "From what I saw, Alastair and Gordon were the first to approach Castiel," she explained, gesturing to each student to explain who was who. "Alastair seemed to be provoking Castiel, because Dean," she said, gesturing towards the blond boy, "came over to Castiel and began confronting Alastair. Now, Dean's friends were with him as well, but they stayed back with Castiel. Alastair and Dean began to talk, and a crowd gathered."

"I see," Ms. Darvill drawled, looking at Dean as she scrutinized him. "At what point did you come to get me?" Ms. Darvill asked as she returned her gaze to the young English teacher.

"As soon as I saw a crowd gather," Ms. Madison replied. Castiel looked up at her. He knew she'd get in trouble for not stopping the fight, herself, but Ms. Madison had wanted the principal herself to see what Alastair does to Castiel. She wanted to provide her with proof.

But now she risked her job for nothing. Dean had been the first one to throw the punch. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut tight. Oh, God no.

"I see…" Ms. Darvill repeated, looking the English teacher up and down. She looked at Alastair, now. "Young man, you've already got quite the record on your hands," she warned him. "It seems we might have to prolong your suspension-"

"But _Dean_ attacked _me!_" Alastair exclaimed.

Castiel sunk lower in his chair as he could see Ms. Madison stiffen from his peripheral vision.

"That was only because you called Cas a-" Dean began, enraged.

"_Quiet_," Ms. Darvill silenced them. When Alastair and Dean quieted themselves with stubborn huffs, Ms. Darvill looked over at Castiel. "Mr. Novak, can I trust you to truthfully respond to whatever question I may ask?" She asked him.

Castiel nodded, wiping the blood that trickled to his mouth with his napkin. "Yes, ma'am," he responded.

"Now, who hit who _first?_" She asked.

Castiel swallowed, his throat tight as he looked down. Dean nudged Castiel's elbow, urging him to tell her. His eyes flickered to Dean, who gave Cas a soft smile as he responded. "Dean hit Alastair," Castiel answered softly.

"Now, is there a reason Mr. Winchester did this?" The principal asked.

Castiel licked his lips and looked up at the short lady. "Because Alastair called me… a certain name," he replied.

"What did he call you, Castiel?" She asked. Castiel felt himself blush as he looked down, then over at Alastair, who glared at him as if to dare him to say it.

"Eyes over here, Castiel," Ms. Darvill commanded. "Tell me what Mr. Kingston said."

Castiel looked at the principal as he mustered up his courage. "He… called me a fag. Along with some other names," Castiel told her.

"Is that when Mr. Winchester struck him?" Ms. Darvill asked.

Castiel nodded.

"Had Alastair been provoking you previously?" She asked.

Castiel nodded, again.

"Did he threaten you in any way?" She asked.

Castiel bit his lip, looking at Alastair for a split second before he looked down and nodded.

"What did he say?" She asked.

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut to stop the stinging before he opened them and spoke. "He told me I screwed myself over and that I need to watch my back. He said he's going to come after me-"

"You're a fucking liar!" Alastair exclaimed, making Castiel jump in his seat at the outburst. Alastair was getting panicky as he stood up abruptly, hands balled into fists at his sides as he glared accusingly at Castiel.

"He isn't the liar, _you are!_" Dean retorted, standing up from his seat, as well.

"Both of you, _sit down_," Ms. Darvill exclaimed harshly. Dean and Alastair glared at each other before they sat down slowly. Ms. Darvill looked over at Dean. "Mr. Winchester, were you there when these threats were made?" She asked.

Dean nodded. "I had arrived when Alastair said the first one, and Cas and I were walking back to our table when he said the second one," Dean told her, happy to snitch Alastair out.

"You were heading back to your table?" Ms. Darvill asked. Dean nodded. "What started the fight, then?" She asked.

Dean was squirming in his seat, now. "When Alastair called Cas a fag," Dean mumbled, seeming embarrassed now.

Ms. Darvill looked at all the boys, raising an eyebrow. "I see… well, following the school rules I'm going to have to call all of your parents to inform them you were engaged in physical violence on school grounds," Ms. Darvill concluded.

Castiel grew cold in his chair and he suddenly felt the need to vomit. That was when Dean spoke up.

"Cas didn't fight, Ms. Darvill. He was trying to stop me, he just got in the way and-"

"He was involved," Ms. Darvill interrupted. "He partook in it and for that a phone call needs to be made. He will be dismissed from the detention, however," she concluded.

Ms. Madison was next to speak up, now. "Ms. Darvill, I can assure you a phone call for Castiel isn't necessary," she spoke quickly, seeming panicked. "He's a very good boy, and I promise you he did not intend for this to happen."

Ms. Darvill gave Ms. Madison a long look. "Are you sure you're not being biased, Ms. Madison?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

The English teacher's jaw dropped and she sputtered with disbelief. Dean looked over at Castiel with a questioning look, but Castiel just hung his head shamefully. "How-why, you can't be serious?" She asked, astounded. "I would never-"

"I can't be sure of that, though," Ms. Darvill challenged.

"Please, ma'am," Ms. Madison countered. "He has done nothing wrong. Do not punish him for trying to stop a fight," she told her.

Ms. Darvill was silent for a long time, debating with herself. "Very well. Castiel," she began as she scribbled something onto a piece of paper, "take this pass to the nurse's office and get that taken care of," she told him, gesturing to his bloody nose. "As for the rest of you, detention will be served after school Monday through Friday of the week following break," she told them. "Each of you will be serving it in Ms. Madison's room," she said, looking up at the teacher as if to dare her to protest. Ms. Madison was silent, knowing she, too, deserved a punishment for not stopping the fight. "If any of you are to skip detention, you will be suspended," she told them, moving a wary gaze to Alastair, who was red in the face with anger. "Winchester and Novak, you two are dismissed. Take Castiel to the nurse's office, would you Dean?" She asked the blond boy.

Dean nodded and the two friends got up, heading out the office and to the nurse. When they were out of hearing range of the office, Dean spoke up.

"I'm so sorry, Cas," he told him, looking at Castiel guiltily. "Shit, are you alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine, Dean," Castiel replied wearily as he gazed at the polished floor of the school, pressing his crumpled napkins to his nose.

"I shoulda listened to you, man," Dean replied, angry with himself. "Alastair just pisses me off-"

"Do not let his words get to you, Dean," Castiel interrupted. "What Alastair says is meaningless, and you should not let it bother you," Castiel told him.

Dean nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, you're right," he replied. "Still, 'felt good to hit that son of a bitch," Dean muttered.

Castiel laughed at that, and Dean smiled slightly. "It felt nice to _watch _that," Castiel told him, smiling now. Dean smiled big at that, and they walked into the nurse's office.

She rose her eyebrows when she saw them arrive. "Not you two, again," she said wearily as she got up to usher Castiel to the bed, where he sat awkwardly. "Getting yourself into quite the amount of trouble this week, aren't you?" The nurse (Mrs. Bent) asked.

Castiel gave a shy smile. "It appears so," he replied as Dean took a seat in a chair by the door.

The nurse removed Castiel's hands. "Let's see the damage here," she murmured as she inspected Castiel's nose, touching around the bridge of it. "It doesn't appear to be broken, but there is some bruising along the left side… you've got quite the collection, haven't you?" She asked, referring to all the other bruises that adorned Castiel's face. He smiled slightly, embarrassed. "Well, let's get you cleaned up," she ushered him, patting his arm as she pointed at the sink. "Wash off all that blood and pinch the tip of your nose to close it. You're going to have to do that for ten minutes, alright?" She instructed. Castiel nodded and got to cleaning.

Giving a satisfied nod, Ms. Bent turned to face Dean. "What're you still doing here, boy?" She asked as she went to her desk to write him a pass to class. "Get your butt outta this office," she told him, ripping the yellow paper from her notebook as she outstretched her arm, urging Dean to take the note from her desk. Dean gave a smile, crossing his legs in his seat.

"Ms. Darvill wanted me to stay with Castiel," he reported, giving his friend a wink when he turned around to face him from the sink, a weary look on his face.

Mrs. Bent raised an eyebrow as she put her arm down on her desk. "Do I _look _like I was born yesterday?" She asked, an "i am so done with you" look on her face.

Dean gave her a smile. "No, ma'am, but you _do _look very young," he told her, giving her his best winning smile as he leaned forward in his seat. "Let me guess... twenty-three, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

The sixty-three year old lady was less than amused. She placed the note on the edge of her desk for Dean to grab. "_Goodbye_, Mr. Winchester," she spoke pointedly.

Smiling as he traced his teeth with his tongue- a signature move that Castiel recognized as Dean's "alright I give up and you win" face- Dean got up from his seat and took the note, looking over at Castiel. "See ya at P.E.," Dean called out as he gave his friend a wave before heading out. "Nice seeing you, again, Ms. Bent," he told her with a smile.

Mrs. Bent rolled her eyes at Dean's pointed "Ms.", but she couldn't help but smile. "Hope we won't need another encounter, Mr. Winchester," she called, to which Dean gave a smile. Then he was out the door and Mrs. Bent was left shaking her head. "Your friend is crazy, do you know that?" Mrs. Bent asked Castiel, who had just finished cleaning up and was now pinching the tip of his nose.

"Unfortunately, yes, I have noticed," he commented as he sat down on the bed.

The nurse observed Castiel for a few seconds. "How're you feeling, Castiel?" She asked him, a worried look adorning her face.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine," he told her. "It hurts when I move," Castiel admitted as he fingered gently at his stomach, "but it's not too bad," he reassured.

She nodded. "That's normal. You're gonna be sore for a while, honey," she informed him. Castiel nodded solemnly, and the nurse continued. "Your father is very nice," she told him as she sorted through her things and looked up at her patient. Castiel had frozen, shocked. "He cares a lot about you, Castiel," she told him. "You're very lucky to have him supporting you," she told him.

Castiel blinked. "When did you talk to my father?" He asked, awestruck.

"On the phone, yesterday. It was procedure. But he asked me a lot about you and he seemed very worried," she informed him. Castiel felt his heart sink- his father was a master at pretending to be the "number one dad". If only she knew. If only he could tell her. "You really do have a great father, though," she told him.

Castiel swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Yes. Yes, I know," he told her. "He's great."

* * *

When Castiel got to gym, Dean was waiting by his locker. The blond boy smiled. "Nice to see that nosebleed stopped," he pointed out with a smirk. Castiel rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't have had it in the first place if you had listened to me," Castiel retorted as he grabbed his gym clothes. "You can wait out by the track, I'm going to get changed," Castiel murmured. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I think I'm gonna stick close, y'know?" He said, looking from the floor up to Castiel. "Just… incase," he murmured, gesturing to the other side of the locker room where Alastair and his friends were, each guffawing loudly and obnoxiously about some joke that probably wasn't even all that funny. "Don't wanna leave you alone near them," Dean told his friend shyly.

Biting his lip with nervousness when Alastair looked his way, Castiel nodded. "Alright. Wait here," he told him as he went to the showers. He changed quickly and made his way back to Dean. They walked to the track together, talking to one another about further plans for the break. When they got to the track, they ran it side by side, ignoring Alastair's sneers and snide remarks. When the coach wasn't looking, Cas and Dean snuck off to the locker rooms and hung out there, after much persuasion on Dean's part as he assured Castiel that, _yes_, the coach had already taken attendance. So they sat side-by-side, listening to music on Dean's iPod while Dean lectured Cas on the importance of classic rock bands. It was the most fun Castiel ever had in school- let alone _gym_- and he was instantly lifted from the dark crevice of his previous bad mood.

It seemed like Dean had that effect on him a lot, recently.

A couple minutes before the bell rung, Castiel and Dean changed and Dean walked Cas to his next class, telling him to meet him up at his car after school before he waved goodbye and headed to his own class.

The last few classes of the day were the longest things Castiel ever had to endure. Jo had noticed Castiel's antsy behavior in History, and she gave him a smile, not commenting on it as the two worked on a packet together.

Castiel thanked God that Jo didn't ask him why he was so excited to be around Dean, because he honestly couldn't seem to answer that himself.

* * *

When Castiel finally got to Dean's car, he could faintly hear music humming from inside. He got to the passenger side of the car and saw that Dean was fiddling with his cassette collection, rifling through them as he searched for one. Knocking on the passenger door, Castiel gave Dean a smile when the teen looked up from his box of tapes. Dean returned Cas's smile as he reached over and unlocked the door. Castiel opened the door and let out a sigh as he took his seat, warming himself in the toasty interior of Dean's car.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted as he placed his box of cassette tapes down, one particular yellowed one in his hand. Castiel returned Dean's greeting as the blond boy took out the tape in the player and put in the one in his hand. He tossed the previous tape carelessly into the box on the floor and started up the car. A hum of music began playing, and Castiel recognized it from earlier in gym as he racked his brain for the name of the band.

"Led Zeppelin," Castiel noted as he glanced at Dean hopefully, searching for a positive expression stating that he was correct.

Dean smiled wide, his green eyes gleaming. "Wow, I've taught you well, grasshopper," Dean joked as he gave Castiel an appreciative look. "Do you remember the song?" Dean asked, unable to help himself from testing Castiel's music knowledge.

Castiel scrunched up his nose as he gazed at the cassette player, as if it would magically reveal the name of the song for him. Then he remembered. "Over the hills and far away," Castiel recalled, smiling when Dean grinned again.

"You got it," Dean told him as he drove out of the parking lot.

"It is your favorite song from the… Houses of the… something, album," Castiel murmured to himself as he looked out the window at passing cars.

Dean laughed. "Houses of the Holy, yeah- it is. I'm shocked you remember," Dean admitted, giving Castiel a side glance. The dark-haired boy shrugged, trying to contain his blush. He picked up Dean's box of tapes to look through it so he could distract himself from Dean's warm smile.

"All I did was pay attention," he murmured as he pulled out a Metallica tape and studied Dean's slanted, cursive-like writing on it with intense interest.

Dean was smiling softly now as he pulled swiftly into Sammy's middle school. "I guess I'm just not used to stuff like that," he admitted as Sammy made his way to the car. Castiel looked at his friend, shocked. Dean sounded so genuine at that moment, and suddenly Castiel felt like asking him what he meant. He felt a dire need to figure out as much as he could about the boy he knew so little about but grew so close to in the past week.

He couldn't ask anything, though, because Sammy was in the car, now. They greeted each other with a smile and made their way to Castiel's house (after dropping Sammy off home) so Castiel could pick up his things. When they pulled into the driveway of the grand brick house, Castiel gave Dean a side glance. Although he has been to Castiel's house multiple times, Dean has never actually been in it. He caught Dean staring at the house before he looked over at Castiel then down at the steering wheel, blushing. He had been staring at it with curious and admiring eyes, and Castiel felt a tug in his gut.

"Would you like to come inside?" Castiel asked hesitantly as he picked up his backpack from the floor of the car.

Dean looked at him, surprised- green eyes wide. Castiel smiled, reassuring him. "You could come inside if you'd like," he repeated. Castiel was sure he had hid his razor from his previous use, and there shouldn't be anything conspicuous in his room, for he kept it fairly clean. When Dean looked hesitant, Castiel spoke up again. "It would be more suitable than waiting out in the car," he added. Dean nodded at that.

"Yeah, sure I'll come," he agreed, unbuckling his seat belt as he got out of the car with Cas. They both made their way to the front door, Dean trailing pretty close behind Castiel as the dark-haired boy searched for his key in his pocket, finding it and unlocking the door.

"Sorry, it's kind of cold," Castiel murmured as he turned on the lights. When entering the house the first thing one would see is the living room on the right- a grand thing with high ceilings and plenty of windows. It contained one fairly large TV and many fancy-looking couches that looked as though they were rarely sat on. Intricate art hung on the walls, and a stone fireplace sat below the TV, seeming cold in the chilly house. There were polished glass tables placed neatly near couches, and there was one grand glass table in the middle of the living room, adorned with an expensive-looking wine glass set. A few bottles of wine and champagne sat on the table, and the living room basically looked as though it were being prepared for a sophisticated art gallery party.

Dean tried not to comment on it as they made their way up the staircase that sat next to the living room. It was a long wooden staircase with a balcony that hung over the living room, and the wood was polished and clean- not a scratch on it.

Castiel's room was all the way in the back of the upper level, and they had to pass plenty of closed doors on their way there. Castiel's opened his door, not giving Dean a glance- nervous that his silence was a bad thing. Dean Winchester in Castiel's _room. _Who would've thought that would ever happen, Castiel mused as he gave his friend a quick glance.

When they got inside Castiel's bedroom, Dean felt his heart sink. It did not hold the presence of a place one would call home. It seemed as though Castiel were prepared to move out any second. No trinkets or personal belongings sat on the grand bookshelf or his studying desk. Cas's bed was made and clean and it looked to be the most inviting part of the whole room, judging by the one faded red sweater that hung on the footboard of the blue-blanketed bed. Dean smiled at that, recognizing the old red sweater, for the color had looked fairly good on Castiel when he had worn it last week.

Castiel placed his backpack on his bed. "I'll just need to get a few things he told Dean, giving the blond boy a smile when he looked his way. Dean returned the smile.

"Alright, Cas. Take your time," he told him as he walked over to the bookshelf, looking through the large collection of books Castiel owned. The dark-haired boy observed his friend for a moment and then he went off to gather some clothes. He put his clothes in a bag before he went to the bathroom- which was conjoined to his bedroom- to retrieve some toiletries.

The books on Castiel's shelves were well worn, Dean noticed, and he smiled as he imagined Castiel flipping through the pages of those books over and over- pale fingers tracing sentences as Castiel mouthed the words in his book silently. The image was familiar to Dean, and it made him feel good. But his smile dropped when he imagined Castiel sitting on the bed of his lonely room, reading these books with no company but his own in this large and empty house.

Shaking the thought away, Dean sidled over to Castiel's bed. His pillow contained creases and was indented where the boy laid his head the previous night, and Dean could smell Castiel's clean familiar scent just by walking near the sheets. A nightstand stood next to the bed, and three books sat atop it, one open and page-down. Dean picked it up, being sure to put a finger between the pages Castiel was on.

_Far From the Madding Crowd_, Dean read. It was that book Castiel had told him about Saturday morning. These must be the books Castiel got from Ms. Madison. Suddenly, Dean remembered the dream he had that Saturday morning and the comments he had made at Castiel and he blushed, putting the book back down as he stepped away from them, walking towards the study desk.

Castiel's desk held some textbooks that were stacked neatly in a corner, largest on bottom going to smallest on top. Notebooks were open and scribbled on with equations and bulleted notes, and it suddenly hit Dean how much Castiel _really_ studied. These were the same books the school gave them, but Castiel _owned _these copies. So, he had two textbooks for each class- one for home and one for school. The notes on Castiel's desk were simply notes he took while studying, and not homework problems. Dean raised an eyebrow, impressed. He always knew Castiel was smart, but he never truly understood or appreciated how intelligent Castiel really was.

Looking around Castiel's desk, Dean took note of the various stacks of papers and casual office supplies, but nothing else really covered it- not even a laptop or computer of any sort. Did he not own a computer? After looking around the desk one last time, something caught Dean's attention.

It was a picture of a very happy-looking family sitting on a grassy field of a park as they all posed for a camera. Dean picked up the picture frame to get a closer look. There was a mom and a dad with three little kids. Dean recognized the father as Castiel's after gazing at the face for a few seconds. He looked a lot younger here- with a _lot _less stubble- but it was definitely the same man. Stern, authoritative eyes adorned him, settled into a strong and chiseled face that was softly framed by dark, wavy hair. But the biggest difference in the photo was he looked _happier. _His eyes were firm but they were filled with love, and his arm was wound loosely around his wife as he smiled the smile of a real, proud, happy father. The mother was laughing, bright blue eyes (that Dean instantly recognized with a smirk) shining bright with so much pure goodness that Dean couldn't help but smile softly. Her light brown hair was long and messily tangled in loose waves, and it brushed lightly onto the baby in her arms. The infant couldn't have been more than a couple months old, but Dean instantly recognized it as Castiel. The baby's eyes were the brightest of blue, Castiel's signature puzzled look adorning the child's features as he held onto one of his mother's fingers with his tiny fist, a soft and long mop of dark hair on the baby's head.

A little girl Dean had never seen before (who couldn't have been older than six) was clothed in a pale pink dress as she sat at the feet of Castiel's mother. She was plopped down next to a boy Dean didn't recognize, either. Dean guessed the boy was her younger brother, based on the kiss she was giving him on his cheek and the goofy face he was making at the camera in return- his tongue sticking out as chocolate brown eyes twisted in a silly way. The little girl had fiery red hair that was down and casual in loose waves- just like her mother. The boy next to her had mouse-brown hair and eyes that held promises of jokes and laughter. Were these two kids Castiel's siblings? Dean observed the photo a little longer, until a gruff voice spoke from the other side of the room.

"Oh- sorry, I forgot to put that away," Castiel apologized as he made his way over to Dean side, looking nervous. Dean looked over at Castiel with a start, but he ignored the teen's statement.

"Is this your family?" He asked, looking into Castiel's eyes.

The dark-haired teen's fingers were strewn together as he twiddled them nervously, looking down at the frame held in Dean's hands. "Yes," he responded. "Yes, they are," he told him.

Dean looked back down at the picture. "Who are these two?" He asked, pointing at the little girl and boy.

Castiel licked his lips as he looked over Dean's shoulder at the picture. "That's my brother and sister," he answered.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you had any siblings," he commented.

Castiel shrugged. "They don't live here, anymore. They left a long time ago," he informed him. "My sister, Anna, is working as an artist in this studio in New York," Castiel explained. "Last I heard, she got some pieces into a museum," he said proudly, giving a loving smile. "My brother, Gabriel," Castiel continued, gesturing hesitantly towards the picture, "is living in New York, as well. He's working in advertising," Castiel told Dean.

Dean looked back at the photo. "Do you ever visit them?" He asked.

Castiel bit his lip, seeming panicked at the question. "No. No I haven't seen them since they left," he replied. We email every other year, but that's it," Castiel explained solemnly.

"Why don't you talk to them, more?" Dean asked, baffled as he looked at his friend. Castiel didn't look up at him, gazing down at the picture sadly.

"It's… a difficult situation," he answered. "I can't really explain it," he told Dean before the blond could raise questions.

Dean respected Castiel's silence as he continued to look at the picture. "Is that your mom?" He asked, looking over at Castiel.

Castiel smiled. "Yes," he replied, seeming happier now at the sight of her picture- if not in a sad sort of way.

Dean smiled slightly. "You said she isn't here," he responded. "Is she off visiting your brother and sister or something?" He asked, curious.

Castiel swallowed thickly. "No- not exactly," he mumbled.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "Where is she?" He asked.

Licking his lips, Castiel offered Dean a sad smile. "She died in a car crash," he informed his friend.

Dean's eyes widened. "Oh God- Cas I'm so sorry," he apologized.

Castiel shook his head. "It's okay, Dean," he reassured him. "It was a long time ago."

Silence fell between the two boys as they looked at the picture held in Dean's hands. "She's beautiful," Dean spoke after a few minutes, his voice filled with sincerity.

Castiel smiled. "She was," he agreed, taking the photo gingerly from Dean where he placed it down on its spot on his desk.

Dean took a deep breath and cleared his throat as he looked at his friend. "You ready?" He asked, eyeing the filled backpack that sat on Castiel's bed, a little bigger than Castiel's school bag he carried around. Castiel nodded as he went to retrieve his bag. Dean raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?" He asked.

Castiel shifted the bag on his shoulders as he tilted his head to the side in his puzzled expression. He glanced back at the bag. "Yes?" He responded. "It is all I need," he told him.

Dean looked at Castiel, giving a smirk. "You do realize you'll be at my house for four days, right?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, I believe that thought ran through my head as I packed," he replied sarcastically.

"Alright, alright," Dean replied. "Let's go," he told him.

So they left Castiel's house and made their way to the car- Castiel locking the door behind him. When they left the house- which was illogically colder than the air outside- the brooding atmosphere had been lifted and the two friends continued to talk about music and what they'd do tonight. Cas and Dean agreed that they'd try and sleep early tonight to be prepared to make Thanksgiving dinner, tomorrow. The two teens were exhausted, anyways, and they were more than happy to sleep at ten like "a bunch of fifth graders", as Dean had said.

Upon arriving to Dean's house, though, they were greeted by a very angry Bobby.

"Why the _hell _did I get a call about you startin' a fight at school?" Bobby asked, as he came over to the front door, phone in his hand. When he saw Castiel, he paused. "Who're you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as his tyrant suddenly cut off.

Castiel's eyes were wide with shock at the sudden and abrupt change in mood, but Dean nudged his arm to urge him to respond. "Uh- my name is Castiel," he responded. "Castiel Novak," he clarified.

"Ah- yeah they mentioned you on the phone," Bobby recalled, turning his attention to Dean, again. "Speaking of which, do you have _any _idea the lengths i went through to prevent your damn school from calling your father?" Bobby asked. Sam was in the dining room right by the front door, and he was snickering as he watched the scene before him.

Dean raised a hand in defense. "Listen Bobby, it's not what you think-"

"It _better_ not be," the older man growled.

Dean rolled his eyes. "It was this dick, Alastair. He had it coming for a while," Dean explained. "He's a real ass."

"You're gonna meet dicks all throughout your life, boy," Bobby told Dean, talking as though the blond boy were an incompetent five-year old. "It ain't no excuse for you to attack each'n every one of 'em!"

Dean sighed. "_Bobby_-"

"Damnit, Dean, is that a black eye?" Bobby noted wearily.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I got hit," he told him.

Bobby raised an eyebrow at that. "You're getting rusty, boy," he commented before looking over at Castiel, Sam laughing in the background. "Castiel, is it?" He asked. Castiel nodded fast, giving Dean's uncle his full attention. "You look like a smart kid, Castiel. Make sure Dean doesn't do more dumb as hell things in school, alright?" He asked.

With a snort from Sam and an eyeroll from Dean, Castiel nodded again.

"Cas is gonna be staying over for the break," Dean informed Bobby as he led Castiel to his room by the arm- eager to stray him away from the chaos that is Bobby Singer.

"Make yourself at home," Bobby called out before the teens made their way inside Dean's room. Dean shut the door with an exasperated look on his face.

He let out a sigh- eyes wide as he looked from the floor to Castiel. "Sorry bout that," he apologized with a smirk as he tossed his backpack onto his bed.

Castiel's eyebrows knit together with worry. "Did I get you in trouble?" He asked as Dean plopped himself down on his bed, taking his boots off.

Dean laughed lightly. "Nah, Cas, don't worry about Bobby. He means well, once you get passed the usual insults. Y'learn to live with it, I guess," Dean mused.

Castiel nodded, giving a smile. "That's good, I suppose," he replied.

Dean looked up at him from his seat on his bed. He got up and shucked off his jacket, tossing it onto his bed. "You can drop your backpack anywhere," he told Castiel.

Cas placed his backpack neatly by Dean's bed, and placed his shoes there as well. "You hungry?" Dean asked as he made his way to the door, holding it open for them.

Castiel smiled. "I could eat."

* * *

They had dined on leftover fried chicken in the living room as they watched haunted house documentaries and ghost hauntings tv shows, sitting side by side on the big plush couch that Castiel had slept on the previous week. Sam had joined later on, sitting next to Castiel as the two chatted throughout the shows about paranormal history experiences they had heard about, occasionally being hushed by an irritated Dean who occasionally mumbled things like "nerd" to the two teens. Dean would laugh at some documented hauntings, commenting on how dumb the ghost stories were every now and then, although he never did change the channel.

Castiel had a lot of fun, and he truly never remembered feeling this relaxed and at home. Even Bobby had joined them later on, bringing a couple of root beers for everyone as he sat on a chair and watched the shows with distracted disinterest.

When it had gotten as late as eleven, everyone retreated to bed for the night. Dean prepared a mattress on the floor of his room for Castiel, and the two had covered it up with plenty of soft and warm blankets and sheets. When they got changed into night clothes and brushed their teeth, they laid down in their beds and whispered to one another about random things that popped up in their heads- ranging from the ghost show they had watched to how completely fake Mr. Dawson's new hairpiece looked- laughing at its ridiculousness until the two teens couldn't breath, tears streaming down their faces as they gasped for air. Castiel couldn't recall ever laughing that hard, and it hurt his damaged abdomen. But the laughing felt great and warmed him from the inside out. He definitely needed to laugh like that more often.

After minutes of silence, Dean spoke up in a hushed tone.

"Cas?" He asked.

"Mhmm?" Castiel replied.

Dean was silent for a bit, and Castiel had almost thought the boy had gone back to sleep before he spoke hesitantly. "My mom died, too," he told his friend softly. "A long time ago- back when I was six," he explained.

Castiel was shocked at the information, not sure how to respond. "I'm sorry," he whispered sadly- finding it was the only thing he could really manage to say.

He heard Dean let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, well, you told me about your mom," Dean replied. "I guess it's only fair you know about mine," he reasoned.

Castiel was silent.

"Goodnight, Cas," Dean mumbled sleepily, turning on his bed as it squeaked slightly beneath his weight.

"Goodnight, Dean."

* * *

**Everything is fluff and nothing hurts-**

**well, not that much.**

**Woooooo things are really starting to get good n_n notice how little by little as each chapter passes I am revealing more and more of Castiel's life to you guys. Soon you shall know everything!**

**Sooooo yes. I hope you enjoyed protective!Dean and Destiel bromance goin' on in this chapter :) I made it extra long for you guys, cuz I love you all so flippin much n_n**

**alright. i guess that's all i have to say. I'm gonna go to sleep now cuz it's 3am and i have french class today.**

**Don't forget to review?:'D maybe? they make me smile.**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	13. The Art of Pie

"Cas. Cas, c'mon, wake up," Dean's voice spoke, a foot kicking lightly against Castiel's arm. "We gotta go to the store," Dean told him.

Castiel murmured nonsense in his sleepy haze, opening his eyes to squint at Dean accusingly, as if the blond boy had put something fowl in his morning tea. Dean gave Cas a big smile from his spot by his closet. "C'mon, Cas, up and at 'em," Dean encouraged, clapping his hands together as he shed off his night shirt, slipping on a black t-shirt and green button up.

"Nooooo," Castiel murmured, curling up in a fetal position as he made a cocoon out of his sheets, burying his face into his pillow.

"Yesssss," Dean mocked, tugging at Castiel's sheets while the thin boy gripped onto them stubbornly, moaning in protest ("Dean, go away", "Five more minutes", "I'm awake, I'm just resting my eyes). "Get your skinny ass out of bed," Dean grunted as he yanked at the sheets harder, finally managing to pull them off the resistant teen.

When the sheets had been pulled off and cold air attacked at Castiel's thin sweatshirt, seeping through to meet his skin, the blue-eyed boy forced himself to sit up, balling sleeved hands into his closed, dry eyes as he rubbed them grumpily.

"W-time's it?" Castiel murmured as he opened his eyes, gazing sleepily at the fresh morning light that trickled through peeks in Dean's blinds, highlighting everything with a clean, white light.

"It's eight," Dean replied as he slipped on a worn out black leather jacket. "We gotta get to the supermarket early to get a turkey and some other stuff," Dean explained when Castiel groaned in a form of a complaint.

"Alright," Cas yawned, getting up on wobbly feet. "I'm up," he reassured his friend as he fumbled through the pockets of his bag for his glasses, which he slipped on sleepily. The clear vision that his spectacles brought woke him up some more and, when Dean retreated to the bathroom, he slipped a black wool cardigan on over a blue v-neck. His skin tingled with warmth from his thick cardigan, and he hummed involuntarily, dragging the sleeves down to his cold hands, where he gripped the wool tight. Castiel quickly changed into some jeans and slipped on his shoes, which were in their spot by Dean's bed.

After slipping his phone into his pocket and rubbing on some deodorant, Cas grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and left to join Dean in the bathroom, which was in the hall right between Sam and Dean's room. When he walked in, Dean looked up from spitting mouthwash into the sink and gave Cas a smile after observing him.

"You're wearing your glasses," he noted smugly.

Castiel felt his cheeks warm. "Yes, I am. My eyes were dry," he stated, trying to dissuade Dean of any thought that he had worn them for him. Because of course he hadn't. Of course he wasn't trying to impress him. That was ridiculous. Why would he need to impress his friend?

Ignoring Dean's smirk at Castiel's embarrassment, the dark-haired boy began brushing his teeth at the sink, working extra hard not to let his gaze wander to his friend. Dean must have thought Cas was an intense tooth-brusher, because Castiel was scrubbing his teeth fiercely before he spit and rinsed as he avoided Dean's gaze.

When Dean left the bathroom, Castiel combed his fingers through his wild mane of hair as he looked in the mirror. He'd need a haircut, soon. His "sex hair" was sticking up messily, and had grown quite long. Castiel had been cutting his own hair for the past few years, and now he was sort of getting the hang of it. He was kind of nervous to cut it now, though. The blue-eyed boy knew he'd end up putting it off as long as he could.

Sighing, Castiel trudged out of the bathroom to the kitchen where Dean and Bobby were lounging. Dean was pouring himself a cup of coffee when Cas walked in.

"You drink coffee, Cas?" Dean asked as he handed a mug to Bobby and stretched out the carafe towards Castiel in a gesture of offering. Castiel gave a small smile.

"No, I do not," he responded. "Thank you, though," he said as he took a seat at the dining table, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through his abdomen.

As he gingerly rubbed his sore stomach, a tiny pain relief tablet and glass of water was put in front of him. Castiel looked up to see Dean giving him a knowing look while Bobby raised a confused eyebrow from his seat at the dining table.

"Thank you," Castiel murmured as he downed the pill and water, sighing as he leaned back in his seat.

Sam bounded into the kitchen not too soon after that, and they all made their way to Bobby's car to head to the grocery store. Dean and Cas sat in the back while Sam took shotgun, and Castiel listened to Sam and Dean argue about how many pies is an adequate amount for a Thanksgiving of four with a smile on his face. Bobby eventually tamed the squabble by saying it's a given for Dean to be in charge of the pies, and with a few murmurs from Sammy and an "In your _face!_" from Dean, Sam began to talk animatedly about other things they'd need.

When they arrived at the supermarket, everyone agreed to split up in order to make it through the crowd of people in the market. Apparently, Dean wasn't the only one with the bright idea of getting up early to get the goods.

So after ripping the sheet of paper that contained their list in half, Sam and Bobby set off while Dean and Castiel went in search of cranberry sauce. Castiel gazed wide-eyed at all the food around him, and Dean gave a laugh when he noticed.

"You look like you're in heaven, Cas," Dean pointed out with a snicker as he tossed a plastic cup of cranberry sauce in the cart Castiel was pushing.

"There's just… a lot of food," Castiel spoke weakly, his eyes on a particularly appetizing-looking tray of potato salad that a woman was putting into her cart.

"Yeah, that's because food is a common thing at a grocery store," Dean said with a smile as he pulled Cas's cart along. "Now c'mon, let's get to the good part," Dean urged as he led them to the baking goods section. While he was there he got a big bag of flour, some salt, and sugar. He then grabbed a can of pumpkin, a can of cherries, and a can of blueberries. Castiel raised an eyebrow.

"I thought _pumpkin_ pie was the traditional Thanksgiving dessert," Castiel noted with a smile when Dean laughed sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, in the Winchester household there is no leaving basic pies out from any holiday. At least not while I'm still breathin'," Dean spoke as he got some final pie ingredients and a few pie dishes. They then moved on to get some eggs, butter, cheese, broccoli, and other ingredients for dishes Dean was planning on making. Pretty soon they bumped into Sam and Bobby, who were both laughing maniacally by their full cart, a turkey in Bobby's hands.

Castiel and Dean both raised inquisitive eyebrows. "What's so funny?" Dean asked Sam, who looked up at his brother with a big smile.

He snorted one last time before he spoke, out of breath. "Bobby wrestling with an old lady for the last turkey, that's what," Sam explained, laughing a little before he continued. "She practically kicked his ass," he told the two teens.

"Well pardon me if I didn't have the advantage of a purse filled with bricks," Bobby replied sarcastically, recovering from his laughing now as he gripped the turkey protectively, as if the old lady would jump him at any moment.

"You should've seen it, Dean," Sam began. "Bobby had to grab it from her hands and run away through a bunch of aisles with her on his tail until a store manager finally stopped her from chasing him."

"For a woman that could barely stand on her own two feet she sure knew how to put up a fight when it came to this goddamn turkey," Bobby growled before throwing it in the cart with an air of triumph.

Castiel was smiling big and Dean smirked, shaking his head. "Well, Cas and I are done. You guys got everything?" He asked.

"All set," Bobby confirmed.

So they bought all their things and got in Bobby's car, Sam explaining in vivid detail the amount of ferocity the old woman had unleashed upon the Winchester's poor uncle. Castiel laughed so hard his sore chest hurt, and Dean rolled his eyes at first, tipping his head back in laughter every now and then. Castiel laughed a lot when he was around the Winchesters, he noted. It was a nice change from his previous living environment.

When they got home they let the groceries chill for a couple of hours, agreeing to start cooking at twelve. Cas, Dean, and Sam decided to play Sorry while they waited, and Sam fetched the board game from a box in his room, placing it on the table in the living room where everyone sat on the floor. They went through three rounds (Cas winning two times and Sam winning once) before Dean insulted the game and shoved the board to the ground, causing Cas to laugh and Sam to call him a sore loser. Castiel then proceeded to pick up the game pieces until Dean felt guilty and got to the floor to help Cas. They settled on playing a game of Clue when Sam and Castiel realized that Dean would definitely not be up for playing another round of Sorry. Dean found the old, battered Clue game, and he proved to be quite good at it. He won one round and Cas won the next. When they looked at the time and realized it was already half past twelve, the boys got Bobby and then got straight to cooking. Bobby and Sam worked on their prized turkey while Dean and Cas worked on their broccoli casserole.

"Alright, so I'm gonna need you to help me cut up the broccoli," Dean told Castiel as he handed him a few small stalks of the bushy vegetable. "Cut them into small pieces and put them into that bowl," he instructed as he gave Castiel a knife as well and pointed at a blue bowl that sat between them on the countertop.

The dark-haired boy nodded, taking the knife from Dean as he watched the blond boy cut up the broccoli with quick expertise. Castiel was distracted for a moment as he gazed at Dean's lean and muscled arms (he had taken off his leather jacket and had rolled up the sleeves to his green overshirt)- his strong and calloused, yet gentle, hands grasping onto the broccoli as quick lashes from his knife sliced it into pieces.

Castiel suddenly relived the memory of Dean's strong arms around him in a hug- calming him from the shaking gasps of breath that racked at his body. He remembered feeling those hands, one supportive on his lower back and the other placed firmly between his shoulder blades. Castiel had no idea how such a simple act could calm the worst anxiety attack he had ever had, but it did. He couldn't help but place his face into Dean's neck as he inhaled shuddering breaths, his body aching and crying with pain. And Cas remembered Dean giving into Cas, letting him rest his face in his neck as he leaned his head ever so slightly on him. His arms felt like an unbreakable shelter that nobody was allowed in besides Castiel. His hands had rubbed small circles into Castiel's back, soothing him as he held him silently. And Castiel wrapped his arms around himself, calming his breaths before he slipped into unconsciousness, knowing he'd be alright because Dean was there.

Blinking, Castiel averted his eyes to his broccoli and chopped it up carefully, definitely not as fast as the elder Winchester sibling. By the time Castiel finished with his first broccoli head, Dean had chopped up all four of his. He glanced over at his friend and gave a laugh when he saw him pick up his second broccoli.

"You're gonna have to go faster than that if you want to have dinner _today_, Cas," Dean told him almost admiringly as he took one of Castiel's broccoli stalks, helping him out with the load.

Castiel was blushing fiercely as he averted his gaze from his friend's profile to the task at hand. "Apologies," he murmured as he worked to cut faster, finishing up his second broccoli and reaching for the last one.

"It's all good," Dean assured as he scooted to the side so Bobby could grab a baking tray from the cabinet in front of him. "We're just warming up, you'll get the hang of it," Dean told his friend.

Nodding, Castiel scooped up his cut broccoli and dumped it into the bowl. "What next?" He asked eagerly.

"Well, here," Dean began as he placed a block of cheddar cheese and a grater in front of Castiel. "Shred the cheese and I'll crush the cheez-its," he instructed.

Castiel nodded and the boys got to work. After a couple of worried warnings from Dean when Castiel's fingers got close to the cheese grater, Castiel had a cup of the cheese ready for the mix. Pretty soon the casserole was done and placed in the fridge to bake later. Dean gave Cas a high five, which the blue-eyed boy returned with a smile.

"Cas the _cass_-erole-maker," Dean joked. "You should open up a restaurant," he suggested with a bright smile.

Castiel quirked an eyebrow. "A restaurant that only serves casseroles?" He asked, trying not to smile at Dean's name play.

Dean shrugged. "I'd go there," he commented with another smile, green eyes crinkled.

Castiel couldn't help but laugh. "Great. You'd be my only customer," he told him as they set to preparing deviled eggs. Bobby and Sam were just finishing up their turkey and were now heating up the oven. "You'd probably also help me make the casseroles, seeing as I can barely make one a day," Castiel added with a smile.

Dean returned the smile as they placed some eggs into a pot of boiling water. "Practice makes perfect, Cas," Dean lectured.

After putting the turkey in the oven, Sam and Bobby told the two teens it'd take about three and a half hours and that Cas and Dean should put the casserole in when the turkey has forty minutes left. They agreed, and Sam and Bobby took over the deviled eggs station so that Dean and Castiel could set on making Dean's precious pies.

"Now, pay close attention, Cas," Dean mocked, putting his hands together. "The art of pie is a very delicate process for a proper Winchester Thanksgiving," Dean explained, making Castiel crack a smirk.

"I'm listening," he reassured Dean, watching carefully to satisfy the teen.

Giving a smile, Dean assembled the ingredients. "Alright, first we need to make the pie crusts. There's gonna be three pies, so we need to make three crusts," Dean explained as he set up three small bowls. They got to work on mixing flour, salt, and sugar together in each bowl, Dean instructing Castiel carefully through the process. Then, Dean cut up a precise amount of butter into each bowl, and the boys mixed the ingredients together with their hands, creating a thick doughy concoction.

At one point in the messy procedure of flour and other baking ingredients, Dean stopped Castiel, putting a hand on his arm. "Uh, Cas, you've got flour right-" he gestured to the area, a smile on his face as Castiel's eyes widened.

Castiel wiped at the area with his sleeve, but Dean snorted when he ended up wiping completely in the wrong place, not even close to where Dean had tried to gesture. A dash of flour was still sitting happily on Castiel's forehead, reaching down to his temple. "Wait," Dean began as he stilled Castiel's arm from moving up again. "I'll get it," he told him, wiping the flour away with two light sweeps of his fingers. Castiel froze, his heart beating out of control at Dean's touch, and the blond boy seemed to realize what he was doing as he paused, his hand still on Castiel's forehead. Dropping his hand from Castiel, Dean cleared his throat, a blush reaching from his neck to brush at his cheeks. "Uhm, I got it," Dean told him as he gave a small smile and turned back to his pie crusts. Castiel swallowed as he turned back to his own dough, trying to stop his face from warming up too much.

After mixing the ingredients together a bit more, Dean added a couple of spoons of water to each bowl, and they rolled the dough into balls, flattening them ever so slightly before they put them into the fridge to chill.

Castiel worked on setting up the cherry and blueberry pie innards (which was quite simple, since it was already prepared in the cans they came in), then he helped Dean prepare the pumpkin pie batter, which proved to be more challenging than the other pies. Dean seemed to know what he was doing though, and he gave Castiel small orders as they set up the sweet, orange paste- pouring it into a bowl. After adding different ingredients to the pumpkin, it became a little bit creamier than the original squashed ingredient, and it smelled delicious. Dean put some in a spoon and handed it to Castiel.

"Here, try it and tell me what you think," he insisted, a smile on his face.

Castiel obliged, hungry from his lack of food throughout the day. Dean had told Cas of their Thanksgiving tradition, how they wouldn't eat until the dinner was prepared so they could ingest as much of it as they could. It was two o'clock, now, and Castiel was eager to take in any form of food. He accepted the spoon and gave the batter a taste.

Sweetness tingled Castiel's teeth and touched his skin as it traveled through his body, tickling him with a shiver of warmth. The blue-eyed boy's eyebrows rose as his eyes widened, and he let out an involuntary satisfied noise as he withdrew the spoon from his mouth, licking his lips. A hint of cinnamon tickled his tongue as the sweet thickness of pumpkin lingered there. "This is amazing," Castiel exclaimed, looking up at a triumphant-looking Dean.

"It's my mom's recipe," Dean explained as he took Castiel's spoon and placed it in the sink. "She used to make these every year. I'd help her out a lot," he told his friend as he stirred up the batter a little more, busying himself so he didn't have to look at Castiel. "I've basically memorized the recipe," he told Cas as he gave a small smile at the bowl.

Castiel gazed at Dean until the blond boy felt his eyes and looked up. They gazed at each other for a moment, then Castiel smiled warmly. "You did great, Dean. I'm sure Sammy will love it," Castiel reassured, sensing Dean's thoughts as the blond teen gaped at Castiel with shock. He opened his mouth, as if to ask how Castiel knew he'd been worrying about making this perfect for his brother, but then closed his mouth and looked at Sam. The young teen was busy filling hard boiled egg halves with fillings, paying complete and total attention to his work. Dean looked back at Castiel and just gazed at him for a moment before he gave a nervous, quick smile. Castiel only kept his gaze, reassuring his friend as intense blue eyes gazed into soft green ones.

"Yeah. Thanks, Cas," he murmured as he continued to work on the batter and suddenly smiled to himself.

Next, Cas and Dean worked on making some mixed vegetables with spices while Bobby and Sam worked on making biscuits. When they were done, they put the vegetables in the fridge and agreed to make the mashed potatoes when the turkey was done.

The kitchen was filled with wonderful smells (mostly of turkey) and the fridge was stocked up with their food that waited to be cooked. While Bobby and Sam worked on watching over the turkey, Cas and Dean prepared the table with dishes, silverware, and napkins. After that was done, Dean patted Castiel's arm to get his attention.

"Let's get some wood for the fireplace," Dean suggested, eyes wide with excitement as he grabbed his jacket from the chair he had placed it on.

Castiel smiled, encouraged by Dean's enthusiasm. "Sure," he agreed, heading out the door with Dean. The two friends walked out to the foresty area behind Dean's house, and they searched for some dry fallen logs, Dean carrying a small axe with him that he picked up from the garage. Castiel gathered a few bigger logs for Dean to chop up, and they worked on that for what seemed like a good hour, talking about whatever came to their minds as they worked. They mostly talked about what they'd be doing tomorrow and what kind of food they should buy for the movie marathon. Castiel said they'd have to buy popcorn while Dean insisted on licorice. After a debate, they just decided they'd get both.

"So what're Thanksgivings like at your place?" Dean asked, risking going over the borderline of their usual conversations. He had to admit, he was curious about Castiel's life. He felt like he knew nothing about the kid, even if they had grown as close as they are now. But Castiel just wasn't opening up like Dean had planned. He did tell Dean about his siblings and his mother, but that had been a vulnerable moment, and it was mostly Dean who pushed him into telling him. Dean figured that in order to know more about his friend, he'd have to be the one that engaged him in conversation.

Castiel looked at the leafy ground of Dean's backyard as he fiddled with the branch he was carrying. "Uhm, we don't celebrate it much," Castiel admitted with a shrug. "My father doesn't bother, since it's only the two of us living together," Castiel murmured, glancing at Dean quick before putting a hand on his abdomen to finger at his bruises. "Uhm, he'll put together a dinner when members of our church visit. But he's not very fond of me assisting him, so I normally just set the table then head to my room for the day," he explained.

Dean felt something tug at his heart, and he licked his lips as he swung his axe slightly, looking at it. He looked back at his friend. "Well, just cuz it's only you two living there doesn't mean that you shouldn't have a Thanksgiving," Dean protested. Castiel's shoulders were hunched now, and Dean felt like he crossed a line.

"It's alright, Dean. I'd rather it be the way it is, anyway. I'm not too fond of spending time with my father just as much as he's not fond of spending time with me," Castiel retorted before shutting his mouth quickly, glancing at Dean quick with nervous eyes before he scoped the ground for another branch, picking it up.

That struck up hundreds of questions within Dean, but he forced himself to keep his mouth closed. The last thing he wanted to do was push Castiel away. Obviously, the teen was not one for being asked things about his family (mainly his father). When the time comes, Cas will tell Dean some more about himself… right?

Maybe Dean would just have to do the same. He needed to let Castiel know a little about himself before he would be convinced to start telling Dean anything. Trust had to run both ways, Dean realized.

So they finished gathering up their firewood, bringing a bunch into the house and lighting up the fireplace, warming themselves by it as they sat on the couch. Dean noticed Castiel sat far from Dean, and he internally cursed himself for being too pushy about Cas's family, earlier. He'd have to tread the waters of their friendship carefully. A wrong word or phrase and it could all be over.

After about an hour or so of watching some TV, Dean and Cas retreated back to the kitchen to put the casserole in the oven. They then got their pie crusts and covered the pie trays, glooping in the mushy innards and covering the top of the blueberry and cherry ones with strips of dough. When the pies were finished and Dean was satisfied, they stuck them into the oven and worked on making some mashed potatoes while Bobby and Sam heated up the vegetables.

Pretty soon the whole meal was done, and they were all sitting at the dining table by six o'clock, beautifully roasted turkey in the center of the table as the side meals accompanied it. Castiel's mouth was watering and his stomach gurgled as he tore his eyes away from the turkey.

Just as Dean was about to make the first cut, Sam interrupted him.

"Shouldn't we say what we're thankful for?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed as his brother let out a sigh.

"C'mon, Sammy, do we really have to?" He asked, eyes pleading and shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

His little brother stared him down stubbornly until Dean gave in, sitting in his seat with a huff as he rolled his eyes to his brother and waved for him to speak. "You first, Sammy," he told him warily.

With a smile, Sam looked at everyone at the table. "I'm really thankful that we got to settle down and have a real Thanksgiving this year," he told them all, his eyes filled with satisfaction. "Thanks to Bobby and Castiel for joining us and helping out, and thanks Dean for agreeing to do this all," he said, smiling as he laid his eyes on his brother, who couldn't help but smirk back. "Alright, Bobby, you next," Sam insisted.

Bobby let out a sigh as he sat up in his seat. "Ah, well as you boys know you're like sons to me," Bobby told the Winchester siblings. "I'm glad we got to spend this Thanksgiving together. It's been a long time," he said with a smile.

The Winchesters beamed at their uncle, and Castiel smiled warmly. Dean was next, and he clicked his tongue before clearing his throat and speaking. "Uh- I guess I'm glad Sammy talked me into this," Dean admitted with a smile at his brother. "It really turned out great. And thanks to Cas for helping, too," he added quickly as he glanced at his friend, who smiled brightly at him.

When it was Castiel's turn, he licked his lips before he spoke, a nervous hitch in his throat. "I'm thankful that you all took me in and allowed me to join you for your Thanksgiving dinner," Castiel told them. "I- well, I haven't had a Thanksgiving this great in a while, and it's… really nice. So thank you," he spoke shyly. Everyone smiled knowingly at him, and they all let out encouraging words as Dean got up to cut the turkey.

Everything was delicious, and Castiel helped himself to serving after serving of the juicy turkey and savory gravy, dipping them in his mashed potatoes as he filled his stomach with the warm food. He ate his tangy-sweet cranberry sauce and tried some deviled eggs, complementing Sam and Bobby on them, Sam beaming at him with pride in his cooking skills.

After some pestering from Dean, Castiel finally agreed to try their casserole. It had turned out great, and Dean smiled warmly at him, telling him "I told you it would be". Everyone spoke enthusiastically over their food, Sam telling the table about the friends he had made at school. Dean told his brother about the movie-marathon they'd be having with the group, and suggested that Sam should invite some friends to join them. Sam grew excited about that, seeming happy to be able to hang out with Dean's friends.

Castiel tried a slice of Dean's pumpkin pie, congratulating Dean on how delicious it was. He even allowed himself a second piece after Dean insisted. Sam had loved it, too, saying how it tasted just like their mom's. Castiel will never forget the look on Dean's face at that comment. He was the happiest Castiel had ever seen him.

Dean helped himself to a slice of each pie, and Castiel couldn't help but laugh at how much Dean enjoyed it, closing his eyes and letting out satisfactory noises with each bite until Sam told him to go and get a room. Dean ignored him as the table laughed, of course, and Bobby ended up throwing a biscuit at the teen after his eleventh incredibly loud and suggestive moan. That ended up in a battle of biscuits between Dean and his uncle, the small round mounds of bread flying everywhere as they hit walls and landed in dinner platters- but they mostly hit one another. After laughing uncontrollably for the majority of the battle, Sam and Castiel eventually had to cease the fight when a biscuit had hit Castiel on the head, decorating his hair with crumbs. They laughed about it afterwards, poking fun at the crumbs in Dean's hair and all over Bobby's plaid button-up.

It proved to be a disaster to clean up, afterwards. Bobby agreed to vacuum the floor while Sam wiped the table down, and Dean and Cas set to washing all the dishes and storing away the food. After everything was cleaned up, the group sat in the living room, sprawled about the couches, Sam sitting between Dean and Cas on the biggest couch while Bobby sat on an armrest close by, nursing a beer.

The TV was on, but it was hardly paid attention to. Sam dozed off immediately, and not so soon after, Castiel did the same. He fought against the sleep that clouded his mind, but eventually let the haze declare dominance as his eyelids drooped closed, a faint smile on his lips.

* * *

Dean had been in the kitchen, searching the fridge for a beer when Bobby showed up.

"So…" he began, leaning against a counter by his nephew. "Castiel, huh?" He asked, raising an eyebrow when Dean immediately snapped his head in the direction of his uncle, beer bottle in his hand but long forgotten.

"What?" Dean asked, feeling his heart race as he looked in the direction of the living room, as if the snoozing dark-haired teen could hear every word of their hushed conversation. "What about him?" He asked.

Bobby raised a hand. "Nothin'," he insisted. "You two just seem awfully close. How long've you been here?" Bobby asked. "A month?"

Dean swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he tried to answer calmly. "Yeah, what does it matter?" He asked.

Bobby shrugged. "Dean, I haven't seen you act as kind as you do to that boy to anyone, besides Sam," Bobby admitted, coming clean now. "And don't think I didn't notice you lookin' at him with those doe-eyes of yours every time he had his head turned during dinner," Bobby added when Dean was about to argue.

Dean could feel warmth creep into his neck and tickle at his cheeks. Oh god, Bobby knew. He knew and now he wasn't going to let this go. What if John found out? What would he do? Dean could feel himself about to vomit everything he had ingested during dinner, his stomach churning with nervousness.. "What're you trying to say, Bobby?" He asked defensively, arms crossed.

His uncle was staring at him sternly, now. "All I'm sayin' is that it's alright," Bobby reassured the teen. When Dean opened his mouth to speak, Bobby raised a hand to hush him. "Dean, you've been through hell. I think y'need to allow yourself some goddamn happiness once in a while. Castiel's a nice kid, and if you like him then screw everything else. I don't want ya worryin' about anythin' else but what you want" Bobby added sincerely.

Dean was biting on the inside of his cheek now as he tried to calm his heartbeat and shove the warmth out of his face. "Alright, Bobby," he began sarcastically, straightening up as he lifted his head and raised his eyebrows. "Why don't I write a sonnet, get myself a guitar and play him a romantic song since you think I've gone all gay-"

"Oh, _shut up_," Bobby told him with an eyeroll as he turned to head out of the kitchen. "Tryin' to give you some advice, you moron," Bobby murmured as he left the kitchen, leaving behind a red-faced Dean.

Taking a deep breath, Dean put down his beer, feeling queasy. How the hell did Bobby know about Dean's feelings for Cas when Dean barely recognized them, himself? No, he couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let himself do this to Cas. Hell, Dean was falling for the guy. It was kind of hard not to- what with the way he looked at him with those goddamned blue eyes and all the things they had both been through in this short amount of time. Dean could just relate to him so easily. He never had casual conversations with anyone as much as he's had with Cas. Talking to him was just so smooth and straightforward. Dean had never told anyone about his mother, but he felt as if he could trust Cas right away. And, somewhere deep inside him, Dean knew that Castiel trusted Dean as well. He had told Dean about his family. It seemed as though it was less of Castiel not wanting to tell him and more of Castiel not being _allowed _to tell him.

But Dean wasn't gay. He had never been gay. He never thought guys were attractive, before. Cas was the first guy Dean ever looked at that way. Hell, he's probably the only guy Dean will ever look at that way. It's less of Cas's gender and more of… just _him._ Just the kind of person he is, and the way the two seemed to connect so simply.

Dean couldn't help but defend his sexual preferences, though. A cocky, confident part of him felt the need to shield his "masculinity". He definitely wasn't ready to admit the way he feels. To be completely honest, he'd probably never be able to.

Sighing, Dean picked up his beer and headed to the living room, being sure to keep his eyes off of both Bobby and Cas as he took his seat next to his brother. He tried to focus on the colorful images flickering on the TV screen, but found himself tuning in his hearing to Castiel's soft breathing, his eyes flicking to the snoozing teen every time Bobby wasn't looking. Castiel looked so peaceful when he slept. He didn't have that look as if he were hiding something- all his emotions were just sprawled out when he slept and right now he looked truly and properly _happy. _Dean smiled to himself slightly as he gave Cas a once over, taking in his jeans and wooly cardigan that seemed too big on him. And those glasses- well, Dean now knew he had a nerdy kink. They looked so good on Cas- framing and drawing even more attention to his blue eyes. Lastly, Dean allowed himself to look at Cas's lips. He would quickly glance at them every now and then when they talked, but now he could really look at them. It was _definitely _not Dean's fault that he found Castiel's lips so alluring. They were full and soft-looking and begging to be kissed.

Forcing that thought out of his mind, Dean gazed at the floor in front of him.

Damn, Dean had it bad, he realized. He looked up to see Bobby gave him a knowing stare, and Dean blushed furiously as he averted his gaze to a garbage bag commercial featuring an overly happy blond lady. He could hear Bobby mumble something that sounded curiously like "idjit". Licking his lips, Dean tried to get thoughts of kissing Castiel out of his mind.

Shit, this was gonna be a long break.

* * *

**Thanksgiving is literally my favorite holiday, right behind halloween. Ugh. screw summer and let it be fall.**

**But yeah, I hope you guys liked this chapter! It is slightly shorter than the previous ones, but oh well. The fluff'll make up for it. n_n**

**I hope you guys have had a lovely week! Thank you for all the reviews! Like, geez this story gets hundreds of views a day. You're all so awesome and thanks for taking the time out of your day to read my dumb story n_n I hope I can make it good enough for you all.**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	14. Licorice Wheels

When Castiel woke up he was still in the living room. It was dark, mind the glow of the TV, and he was lying down on the couch he had been watching TV on- a warm mass at his feet.

Groggy and glasses askew on his nose, Castiel sat up, noting that there was a plush pillow placed beneath his head and a blanket draped over him. Dean was sitting on the other side of the couch, arms crossed and head tilted forward, calm breathing audible over the soft hum of the television. The blanket was draped over his legs slightly, and he was reclined in the couch- as if he fell asleep while watching a show. Castiel noted that Dean was in his nightclothes- a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt that hung loosely on his muscular frame.

Reaching his hands under his glasses to rub at his eyes, Castiel took in a deep breath through his nose to stifle a yawn. He rolled his shoulders before looking at a wall clock- squinting to see the numbers in the dark of the living room.

It was 4:30 A.M., the clock ticking softly in the calm of the living room. Castiel remembered sitting next to Sammy on the couch as the whole family watched some TV after dinner. He remembered feeling full and drowsy. He must have fallen asleep. But why was he still on the couch? Why was Dean still here? He had gotten changed for sleep, so why was he in the living room with Castiel?

Castiel nudged at Dean's arm, pushing him lightly to stir him awake. When Dean let out a moan of protest before blinking his eyes open, Castiel spoke.

"Dean. Dean, wake up," he urged him. "I think we fell asleep in the living room," he noted.

Dean was sitting up, now, bending his neck this way and that until it popped and he grunted with discomfort. He laughed quietly, eyes heavy with sleep before he sighed. "Cas, _you _fell asleep in the living room," Dean corrected before yawning and stretching his arms, looking over at his friend with sleepy green eyes.

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"You wouldn't get off the couch after dinner. Y'kept saying how you're okay and you wanna stay here and to leave you alone," Dean told him with a laugh when Castiel's eyes widened.

"Oh- sorry, I didn't mean to-" Castiel began, face flushed with embarrassment.

"It's fine, man," Dean reassured. "I just stayed here 'cuz I'd be a crappy host if I left you alone so you could wake up all confused," Dean told him with an amused smile. "I could tell you were out of it," he added.

Castiel gave a small smile. "Yes, I was rather tired," he agreed, stifling another yawn. "But I'd rather not continue sleeping on the couch," Castiel added as he got up.

With another laugh, Dean got up as well. "Yeah, I hear you on that one," he agreed. "Let's go," he urged before turning off the TV.

They headed to Dean's room where Castiel changed quickly and laid down on his mattress, covering himself from head to toe in blankets as he tried to regain the body heat he lost from the cold of the night. He heard Dean's bed squeak beneath his weight, and he listened to Dean's calm breathing, letting it lull him to drowsiness.

"Goodnight, Dean," he murmured before falling asleep.

"Night, Cas."

* * *

When Castiel woke up it was to a sweet smell. The dark-haired boy stretched a bit before turning to his side to fumble for his glasses, slipping them on. He sat up and yawned, his body urging him to go back to sleep. But the room was lit with a morning light and Castiel decided he had enough sleep. Looking to his right, he saw that Dean's bed was empty.

It was his curiosity that eventually got him on his feet, padding towards the kitchen where he heard voices. When he got there, he was greeted with the sight of a smiling Dean flipping pancakes with his little brother while their uncle gathered some plates. They were all laughing about something, and Castiel got the feeling he was intruding.

But when Dean spotted Cas and gave him a friendly, warm smile, that feeling vanished.

"Morning, Cas," Dean greeted. He was still in his night clothes, his white shirt defining his slender frame.

Castiel smiled back. "Good morning," he returned, walking to where everyone was busy with breakfast. "Is there anything I can help with?" He asked.

Bobby lifted up some glasses. "Well, you can help me set the table," he offered. Castiel nodded eagerly and assisted him with preparing some silverware and pitchers of water and orange juice. Just as he and Bobby were finishing placing napkins on the table, Dean came over with a large stack of pancakes, Sam trailing behind him with a jug of syrup.

The tables had been adjusted since the night before so everyone could reach the plate of pancakes. Two chairs sat on each of the longer sides of the table, rather than one chair on each of the four sides. Dean and Bobby sat side by side, and Sam and Cas sat across from them.

"Is there a reason for the numerous amount of pancakes?" Castiel asked after everyone had dug in, a smile on his face when Dean looked up from his food.

Dean shrugged, smiling back. "Sam wanted pancakes," he said simply.

Castiel nodded, cutting up a piece. "Well, they're very good," he complimented, taking another bite.

Sam smiled from beside him. "Dean literally cooks the best food," he explained to Castiel. "He'd cook for me all the time back when we were younger," Sam added, pouring some more juice into his cup.

"Really?" Castiel asked, moving his gaze from Sam to Dean.

Dean blushed as he pushed around his pancake. "I cooked a little, yeah," he admitted.

Castiel smiled softly, finding the fact that Dean cooked for his brother to be endearing. "I wish I could cook," he retorted, taking a bite of the fluffy, syrup-soaked breakfast. It had a hint of banana, with the sweet taste of vanilla. "All I can make is pasta," Castiel added, earning a laugh from the table.

"I could teach you a few recipes," Dean offered with a smile.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, eyes widening. "You'd teach me how to cook?" He asked. "Really?"

Castiel never learned to cook, but he'd always wanted to try. His mother used to cook up the best dinners for him, and she'd often let him help when she baked goods for the church fundraisers.

Dean shrugged, blushing again before looking down at his plate. "I dunno. If you want, yeah," he replied, embarrassed.

Castiel smiled brightly. "That'd be great," he responded.

They all continued to eat and talk about their plans for the day. Sam said he'd invited over three of his friends: Andy, Ava and Jessica. They were going to come over to watch the movie marathon with Dean and his friends, and Dean had responded enthusiastically, glad to get the opportunity meet his little brother's friends. At one point during breakfast, Bobby brought up a job available at a car garage in Lawrence.

"It's not too far from here," he explained to Dean. "But I thought you might be interested. They're lookin' for repairmen and, well, you _are _the one that brought that impala of yours up from the pile of rust it used to be," Bobby explained. "No offense," he added, knowing that insulting Dean's car was sensitive territory.

Dean smiled, chuckling. "None taken, Bobby. Yeah, that actually sounds awesome. I've been meaning to get a job," Dean replied. "Here," he said as he got up and grabbed a notebook and pen from the kitchen. "Could you write down the info here? I'll be sure to check it out."

So Bobby wrote down the address and phone number of the repair shop on it, then excused himself, saying he had to head to work. Everyone bid their goodbyes, and Bobby promised them he'd be back at nine. So after finishing up their breakfast, the boys all headed off to get ready for the day.

Castiel dressed himself in a navy blue sweater and a pair of jeans. Once he was dressed he took note of Dean's blue button-up he wore, smirking to himself when he realized that they were practically matching. Castiel put in his contacts, today, storing away his glasses. He noticed Dean watching him out of the corner of his eyes with almost a look of slight disappointment, and he brushed away the thought that it had to do with Cas's contacts. Of course it didn't.

Once everyone was dressed they decided to watch some TV and relax for a couple hours, since it was still early. When the time slipped to around one o'clock and Dean complained that he did not want to watch another episode of Ghostfacers (a really cheesy and completely laughable show about a group of people who go hunting for ghosts), they all decided it was time to go to the store.

They got ready and all climbed into Dean's impala and drove to a nearby Walmart to get food for the movie marathon. It turned out that Sam and Cas both agreed that popcorn was an essential movie snack, and Dean bought a couple boxes of movie theater popcorn with an eyeroll, mumbling "you guys have no taste" and later accusing Castiel of teaming up against him. Dean was joking, of course, and when they got to the candy isle Castiel made it up to him by helping him find licorice wheels- Dean's favorite shape of licorice.

By the end of their movie-food scavenging, the group had a cart full of popcorn, licorice, soda, chips, and other unhealthy assortments of various candies and snacks. When they were all satisfied with their choices, they made their way back into the impala.

"We should go somewhere for lunch," Sam suggested. It was two o'clock, and the pancake breakfast at eight seemed like ages ago.

"That's a good idea," Castiel seconded.

"Where do you guys wanna go?" Dean asked, looking in the rearview mirror at his brother.

"I dunno. Just somewhere that doesn't serve pizza because if I have another slice of cheese on bread I will probably go insane," Sam responded.

Dean laughed out loud, eyes squinted as he tilted his head back slightly, keeping his eyes on the road all the while.

Castiel smiled, confused. "Is there a reason for your intense hatred towards pizza?" He asked Sammy, who gave a smirk.

"Well, for almost a month while we were still unpacking kitchen stuff we didn't go shopping for things we could cook. We practically had pizza every night, and if not that then we'd have hot pockets," Sam explained with grimace on his face, his nose scrunched in disgust.

Dean was still laughing, gripping onto the steering wheel as he shook his head. "So Papa Johns it is, right Sam?" Dean joked when they passed by the pizza franchise.

"I will literally not hesitate to murder you, Dean," Sam retorted.

Smiling, Dean lowered the blaring tunes of Black Sabbath (Castiel only knew the name because he had asked) and glanced at Castiel. He had a glint of recognition in those green eyes before he looked back at the rearview mirror.

"How about some Burger King?" He offered. Sam immediately smiled.

"I'm up for that," he agreed.

Castiel felt his heart stutter as he recalled sitting on Dean's couch, hungry and weak and in so much pain. He remembered Dean basically feeding him fries upon fries, being patient when it took Castiel hours to ingest all the food. He remembered the look on Dean's face when Castiel unexpectedly cried. He remembered the smile Dean gave him when he explained how happy the burger held in his hands made him. It almost seemed like ages ago. Dean looked over at his friend, noting his suddenly happy features. "Burgers okay with you, Cas?" He asked, although he knew what the answer would be.

Castiel smiled softly. "Yes, burgers are alright with me."

* * *

Dean had Sam and Cas find a booth while he went to request their order. When Castiel wasn't sure what he wanted, Dean said he'd take care of it for him. So now Castiel and Sam were sitting across from one another at a booth, chatting about things that came to their mind- mostly about how Sam was faring in his Physics class. He worried relentlessly about a test that was soon to come, and Castiel reassured him that he was going to make sure the younger Winchester passed. They set up a study date for Tuesday and Wednesday, the two days before his test on Thursday.

"Uhm, Cas?" Sam began hesitantly, drawing Castiel's attention away from a spider crawling outside of the window they were seated next to.

"Yes, Sam?" He answered, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted in confusion. Sam suddenly grew shy, fiddling with a paper menu that sat propped up against condiments on the table.

"Well, uhm, one of the friends I invited over tonight… Jess," he began, glancing up at Castiel before he looked back down. "I uhm, well I think I might like her… like, a lot," he hinted, looking at Castiel to make sure he understood. "And, well… I'm worried that… y'know."

Castiel gave him a friendly smile, understanding. "I'll make sure she gets a good impression," he assured the preteen, whose eyes widened with surprise.

"Really?" He asked, perking up suddenly.

Castiel nodded reassuringly, and Sam sighed.

"Wow, thanks. I- well, I didn't want to tell Dean. Not yet, at least, because I feel like he'll try and embarrass me. Well, you know how he is," Sam began with a smile. "He's always asking if there's a girl I like and he's always trying to get me to go at it but… I don't know, I wanna take things slow. I really like her," Sam explained.

Castiel quirked a smile. That did sound like Dean. He was very enthusiastic when it came to his little brother's life, and Castiel was more than aware that Dean was a complete womanizer. From what he remembered of Dean's first few weeks at school, all the girl's he had accompanied himself with had basically clung to him with admiration and complete and utter adoration. A little tug started in his chest when he realized… Dean was a _womanizer. _He was friendly towards Castiel, yes, but that was just how he acted to all his friends.

Oh, God. Right when Castiel began acknowledging the fact that his feelings towards Dean might be romantic, he failed to wonder if Dean felt the same way. His heart dropped down to his stomach and he grew cold. Suddenly, Castiel felt very, very small- and very, very dumb.

"Cas?" Sam's voice spoke, jolting Castiel out of his thoughts.

"Yes?" He asked, looking at Dean's brother with an apologetic smile.

Sam's eyebrow was raised in a way that reminded Castiel of Dean, and he observed his friend before he spoke. "Uh, I asked if you could distract Dean tonight. Y'know, so he doesn't notice," Sam repeated.

Castiel gave the younger Winchester a smile. "Of course," he replied.

Sam smiled brightly, now. "Thanks, Cas. You're awesome," he complimented.

That was the exact moment that Dean arrived with two trays of food. "Why is Cas awesome?" He asked, hearing Sam's previous statement as he smirked, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

Dean took a seat next to Cas on the booth, and Castiel felt himself grow warm at the touch of Dean's legs against his, his heart beating in his chest as he accepted the food Dean handed him with a smile.

"Because he just _is_, duh," Sam retorted, giving Castiel a knowing look and smile before taking his burger and fries from Dean.

Dean gave a thoughtful pout before he nodded, taking a bite of his burger. "Sure, I guess you're right," he agreed around a mouthful of food.

Castiel unwrapped his hamburger, looking at the contents within it. There were two meat patties and a bunch of different vegetables and condiments within it.

"I got you a double burger," Dean told him when he noticed Castiel hadn't eaten, yet. "Like the one from last time, except some more stuff added to it now that you can stomach it," he added quieter.

Castiel smiled at his friend, who returned the gesture. "Thank you, Dean," he replied before taking a bite out of the burger, relishing in the sweet ketchup and bitter mustard that laced his tongue, enjoying the crunch of lettuce and juice of tomatoes. The fried food was all excellent, and Castiel ate slowly, savoring every bite.

Dean's leg did not move from its spot next to Castiel's, and that fact alone warmed Castiel and made him unable to stop smiling around his food. It was a simple gesture, and Castiel was sure Dean didn't even take note of it, but the feeling of soft physical touch was still a foreign thing to Castiel.

And he could get used to it.

Castiel listened to Dean and Sam chat about random things ranging from places they've lived at to a school play that Sammy was in when he was ten- Our Town, as Dean had recalled. Sam had blushed furiously and begged Dean not to mention it but the older sibling just laughed and prodded jokes towards his brother.

"Nah, Sam, you were good. It was cute," he said almost adoringly, and Castiel laughed while Sam glared at his brother, eventually shaking his head and smiling softly.

Dean moved animatedly when he spoke, Castiel noted, and with all the gestures he was making Castiel could smell his enticing cologne- wait, Dean wears _cologne? _Once he got over the initial shock that Dean wears cologne, Castiel took not that it smelled warm and musky, mixed with the leather of Dean's jacket and a slight hint of the impala on him. The pure sweetness of Dean's smell heated Castiel's skin, prickling through his body and making his cheeks flush when he realized how attracted he felt towards the blond teen at that moment.

Their arms would bump every now and then and Castiel couldn't help but linger towards the touch, addicted to the feeling it gave him. Castiel knew it was not only due to his attraction towards Dean, but also due to the fact that he had been deprived of contact for so long. Even when Sam would tap Castiel's arm to get his attention, Castiel found that he craved the touch. And, well, Dean's leg stayed by Castiel's all throughout lunch, silently fulfilling Castiel's unvoiced needs. He couldn't help but feel as if Dean knew what he was doing- that he knew what touch did to Castiel. Heck, there's was a ton of space on the booth seat they shared, yet Dean sat close by his friend, letting their shoulders touch and their arms bump and their hands brush. Castiel's skin was practically humming with happiness and warmth by the time they had all finished their meal and made their way back to Dean's car.

When they got back home, Dean, Castiel, and Sam all worked at setting up the living room for the movie marathon. Cas and Dean worked on arranging furniture so there was more space for sitting in front of the TV while Sam searched through boxes for their Indiana Jones movie collection. After that, they brought out all their snacks and Cas helped Dean set up the drinks in a cooler. By the time they got everything prepared, it was five o'clock. Dean texted everyone telling them they were ready, and that they could come over. He also added that they were welcome to spend the night.

Chuck was the first to show up, and he came over with a pack of root beers. After coming inside he sat down on the couch next to Cas, giving him a smile while Dean went off to the kitchen to grab some more ice for the cooler.

"Hey, Castiel," he greeted, smiling brightly.

Castiel smiled back. "Hello, Chuck. How was your Thanksgiving?" He asked as he accepted a root beer that the messy-haired boy offered.

Chuck shrugged, blue eyes passive. "Eh, it was alright. I mean, I had like twenty relatives over. It was a mess. I mostly locked myself in my room when I wasn't forced to play with ten little kids," Chuck explained, earning a laugh from Castiel. "But, yeah. I actually got a lot of writing done, so that was fun I guess," Chuck added before taking a sip of root beer.

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you writing an essay?" He asked.

Chuck's eyes widened as he sat up a little straighter. "Oh! Dude, I guess I never told you. Damn, sorry I forgot. Uh, well I actually write a lot of stories," Chuck corrected, giving Castiel a smile when his eyebrows rose.

"I had no idea you wrote," Castiel commented, turning in his seat to face Chuck better while they talked.

Chuck shrugged a shoulder. "Eh, it's not much. There's one book I'm truly dedicated to writing. I wanna become an author, one day. I want a lot of people to read my writing. Maybe I could be famous or something, I dunno. If that were to happen I would go by a different name, though," Chuck added with a smirk.

Castiel smiled. "And what name would that be?" He asked.

His friend gave a smug smile, reclining in his seat a bit. "Well, if I tell you you'd have to promise not to give away my secret identity," Chuck answered.

Crossing his finger over his heart, Castiel nodded. "I swear."

Giving a light laugh, Chuck responded. "Well, all I can say is you should look out for the name Carver Edlund," he told him, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel nodded knowingly, smirking. "I'll be sure to be on the lookout," he agreed, sipping his sweet soda. "So how long is your book you're working on?"

"You mean the one that I said I was dedicated to writing?" Chuck asked. When Castiel nodded, Chuck answered. "Well, I've actually separated the writing into different books, it got so long. I've come up with about three books so far," Chuck replied proudly, smiling at the impressed look on Castiel's face.

"Wow," he managed to utter.

Chuck laughed. "Wow, indeed. I've been working on them since the sixth grade. Let me tell you, I had to do _a lot _of editing on my crappy middle school writing," Chuck told him with an exasperated look.

Holding his soda can with both hands, Castiel settled it in his crossed legs. "What's your book series about?" He asked, intrigued.

Chuck suddenly grew self conscious. "Well, it's kinda weird, but to sum it up it's about two brothers who hunt demons and ghosts and stuff like that. Throughout the book, though, a lot of stuff happens and the two brothers have to basically save the world a bunch of times," Chuck explained.

Castiel's eyes widened. "How'd you get the idea for that?" He asked, genuinely curious.

Chuck shrugged, smiling. "Well, it came to me in a dream and i guess it just kinda took off from there," he explained. Castiel listened in vivid detail as Chuck told him how he was about to add angels to his book series in preparation for an apocalypse that the brothers and one angel were going to stop.

"I'm still trying to find a good name for the angel that's on the brother's side," Chuck mused, thinking to himself.

Cas gave a smile. "Well, I will not imply anything, but I happen to be named after an angel," Castiel hinted.

Chuck's eyebrows rose. "Y'know, I actually like that. Castiel: Angel of the Lord," Chuck tried out, suddenly smiling. "It has a nice ring to it," he added with a grin.

Castiel nodded, smiling wide. "I have to agree with you on that comment," he replied.

Chuck was excited, now. "Y'know, I think I'll use your name- if you don't mind. Jo and Ash have already been included in the story, and I'm gonna fit Charlie and Adam in there somehow," Chuck explained. "I even incorporated myself into the story," he added with a laugh. "I like using my friend's names, it makes the story seem a lot cooler and more personal. I'm still trying to be friends with a person who has a younger brother, though," Chuck told Castiel. "I have yet to find someone who I know that my main characters could be named after," Chuck spoke thoughtfully. "I don't really like the names of my main characters as of now- every name I come up with sounds kinda cheesy. They just doesn't sound cool enough, and I can't seem to find names that go smoothly."

Castiel gave his friend a smile, excited about the story and being able to be in it. "I'd be honored to be in your story," he told his friend. "And, you know, since you're having trouble finding names you like for the brothers, you could try Dean," he suggested. "He has a younger brother, Sam," Castiel explained, looking around the living room for the younger Winchester. "He's not here at the moment… but you could talk to them about it later if you'd like," Castiel told him. "I'm sure Dean wouldn't mind, and Sam would definitely be interested."

Chuck raised his eyebrows. "Their last name is Winchester, right? Like the rifle?" He asked. When Castiel nodded, Chuck laughed. "That's actually so freaking bad ass! I like it! I definitely have to ask," He exclaimed.

Castiel smiled. "Do you think I'd be able to read the books?" He asked hopefully.

Chuck smiled. "Of course, dude," he agreed. "I could show you them one weekend. Just, well here, give me your number," he said as he pulled out his phone, handing it to Castiel. They exchanged numbers, and made plans to hang out another week at Chuck's house so Castiel could read some of his books.

Pretty soon, Charlie and Jo showed up, followed by Adam and Ash later on. Sam's friends, Jessica, Ava, and Andy showed up, and everyone settled down for the movie. Castiel sat between Charlie and Chuck, since Dean was well distracted by his conversations with Adam about which Indiana Jones movie was the best. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (Dean's favorite) flickered on the screen, but the blond teen completely ignored it as he debated playfully with his friend. Sam was seated next to Jessica, Castiel noted, and he could faintly see them holding hands from their spot on the couch as they talked quietly. Smiling when Sam caught Castiel's gaze, the other Winchester returned the smile sheepishly and gave Castiel a "thank you" look. Andy and Ava were eating some popcorn and arguing about the movie with Dean and Adam. Andy had taken Dean's side in agreeing that the Temple of Doom was the best movie, and Dean smiled, saying how he was gonna adopt him and have him as a little brother instead of Sam when Sam had taken Adam's side.

Charlie and Castiel talked about their Thanksgiving, Charlie explaining in great detail the devastation she had to go through when wearing an awful dress her grandmother gave her for the dinner.

"Ugh, it was awful, Cas," Charlie explained, hands on her face as she shook her head, red hair swishing with the movement. "I literally looked like one of those creepy dolls from a horror movie," Charlie recalled with a shudder.

Castiel laughed, reclining in his seat as Charlie took a handful of popcorn from his bowl. "Well, I bet you looked fine, Charlie," Castiel reassured with a smile as he looked at his friend.

Charlie quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "I've got pictures that will prove you wrong," Charlie challenged as she pulled out her android, pressing on her photo gallery button to show Castiel a picture she had taken of her reflection in a big mirror. Castiel snorted when he saw the dress, unable to help himself. It was pink and went down to Charlie's ankles. The skirt poofed out and the waist had a ribbon that tied into a bow. Frilly white cuffs were on the collar and the sleeves of the dress, resembling table doilies.

Castiel bit his lip to hold back his laughter. "It's… cute, Charlie," he lied, earning an elbow in his ribs, which sent him laughing hysterically. "Alright, alright, I admit it, the dress is quite bad," Castiel gave in with a smile.

Charlie scrunched up her nose, but she was smiling. "Tell anyone about it and you'll wake up in the dress, Novak," she challenged with a grin.

"I believe you," Castiel responded, holding his hands up in surrender. "Not a word, promise," he concluded before digging into his bowl of popcorn.

Charlie smiled brightly, running a hand through Castiel's hair as she messed it up playfully. "Good, Castiel. You learn quickly," she complimented with another smile when Castiel rolled his eyes. "Geez, Cas, you've got some serious sex hair goin' on," Charlie commented, removing her hair from Castiel's mane. "When was the last time you cut it?" She asked as she played with a loose stand, fixing up Castiel's hair slightly.

Castiel shrugged, grabbing a handful of popcorn and munching on it. Charlie and Cas were sitting close on the couch, the redhead practically reclining into Castiel's side. It was comfortable, and yet again his body ached for the contact. It was not the same as it was with Dean at the restaurant, though. This time it was more of a happy comfort rather than an intense, warm comfort. "I'm not sure," Castiel admitted. "I cut my own hair, and I'm not very good at it. So I tend to put it off," he explained.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Y'know, I've got a friend who could cut it for you," Charlie suggested. "She's really good with hair- she wants to be a stylist. You can trust her," Charlie reassured. "Her name is Gilda," Charlie told Cas, and from the way Charlie spoke about her Castiel knew she had a sort of fondness towards the girl.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "How much does she charge?" He asked.

Charlie snorted. "C'mon, Cas, you're my friend. She'd do it for free," she explained.

Castiel smiled, nodding. "Alright, yes. That sounds nice," he told her. "I'd like that, if it's not too much trouble."

Charlie smiled. "No trouble at all. I'll contact her later," she informed her friend.

At that moment, Dean sat on their couch, right between Castiel and Chuck.

"Hey guys," Dean greeted with a smile, handing Castiel a soda.

Everyone greeted Dean with a smile, and Castiel accepted the soda with a thank you. Dean and Chuck chatted about Chuck's book and Dean agreed enthusiastically towards the idea of him and Sam being the main characters. He seemed pretty flattered.

"Dude, that sounds fucking awesome!" Dean exclaimed. "I don't read pleasure books much, but you definitely gotta let me read that sometime," Dean told his friend, who gave a bright smile.

Later on while watching the movie, Dean opened a plastic bag with a loud crinkle and Castiel looked over to see Dean's beloved licorice wheels.

Castiel smiled, giving a light laugh. "Always with the licorice, Dean," Castiel commented, to which Dean smirked.

"You'd understand if you'd let me give you one to try," Dean told him, untwirling one of the looped licorice rolls as he ate it.

Castiel scrunched up his nose. "I don't think I'd like any," he replied. "I did not enjoy the Twizzlers from the movie theater all that much," he added.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "To call these Twizzlers is an insult," Dean mocked, a hand over his heart.

Castiel rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "They're basically the same type of candy, Dean," Castiel retorted.

Dean shook his head. "And that's where you're wrong, my friend. This is the good stuff," he insisted, handing Castiel a red wheel. "Here, try it," he offered.

At first, Castiel was going to say no. But the smell of Dean's cologne and the way his body was pressed against Castiel's at that moment made the dark-haired teen want to do anything to keep that contact. With a sigh, he took the licorice from the teen's hand.

"You gotta eat it like this, by the way," Dean said as he let the string of licorice hang from his mouth, his hand holding the wheel and unwinding it with his lips as he ate more.

Castiel smiled, snorting. "I did not know there was a rule applied towards the eating of licorice," he joked.

Dean nudged him gently. "Well, now you know," he retorted, smiling.

Castiel gazed at the waxy candy in his hand before unravelling it slightly and taking a bite out of the string. It actually tasted good, he had to admit. Definitely a lot better than the twizzlers he and Dean had eaten the past weekend.

"So?" Dean prodded, a smile on his face.

Castiel shrugged. "They're_ okay_," he lied.

Dean laughed. "Nah, you love them," he concluded.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dean."

Before Dean could respond, Jo sat on Dean and Castiel's lap, holding her iPhone in front of the three of them, the reverse camera turned towards them.

"Selfie time!" She told the boys. Dean smiled automatically, and Castiel laughed at the ridiculousness in Jo's voice and the enthusiasm in Dean's smile.

The picture actually turned out quite nice.

"Aren't you two a pair of lookers," Jo commented with a smile as she showed them the picture, then patted Dean and Castiel's heads affectionately.

"Thanks, I do part-time modeling," Dean replied with a big grin.

Jo busted out laughing at that. "No, actually- if I didn't know you- I might've believed that," Jo said with a smile before jumping off the couch to sit next to Adam and Ash, taking pictures with them. Dean and Castiel chuckled and Charlie commented something like "you guys are such dorks" as she smiled adoringly.

After some more debate over Dean's licorice, the two friends continued to watch the movie in silence. After Castiel had finished with his licorice wheel he reached into Dean's bag to grab another one, ignoring the way Dean smirked smugly.

He also ignored the way Dean subtly leaned closer, resting his arm and leg against Castiel's as he put the licorice bag between them. At one point, their hands brushed when they both reached towards the bag, and they automatically pulled away, both murmuring apologies before Dean offered the bag to Castiel, who took it- a blush spreading across his face.

Dean's hand was smooth and their touch had been like a shock of electricity, enhancing Castiel's senses and making his heart accelerate. It was nothing like when their legs and arms touched. There was no warmth and calm, just pure excitement and energy.

But the awkward feeling soon passed and they continued to watch the movie, Dean nudging Cas to point out his favorite parts, quoting them enthusiastically and with much theatrical mocking as Castiel laughed.

Bobby got home eventually, and he checked in with everyone before making his way to his room, retiring for the night. By the time everyone had finished with their fourth Indiana Jones movie, the teens were all growing sleepy. Adam and Jo had already fallen asleep on one another, taking up a love seat as they curled up messily, limbs tangled. Ash had fallen asleep on a chair, sprawled out messily on it.

Jess and Ava had left home together around one, thanking Sam and Dean for inviting them over. Everyone (that was awake) bid the two girls goodbye before they left. Charlie later fell asleep, laying her head on Castiel's lap as she stretched her legs out on the armrest, snoozing peacefully. Dean had laughed at that, and Castiel smiled. He had grown fond of Charlie. She reminded him of his older sister.

Chuck had taken refuge on a chair that Sammy had previously been sitting on (the younger Winchester and Andy were asleep in Sam's room), and he was curled up there, sleeping away.

Once again, Castiel and Dean were the only ones up, probably due to their large intake of sugar.

Castiel carded his fingers through Charlie's hair absentmindedly as he began to feel sleepiness envelop his mind. A glance at the wall clock revealed it to be three in the morning, and Castiel almost groaned at the sight. His sleeping schedule was going to be awful

Before he could fall asleep, though, Dean jostled his shoulder.

"Hey. Cas, you awake?" He asked. When Castiel turned to face him, blinking sleepily, Dean continued. "We should get everyone to my room. Probably more comfy than the couches," Dean suggested.

Castiel nodded, yawning, and he carefully shook Charlie awake, removing her from his numb legs and gently helping her up as she murmured sleepily, stumbling on her feet.

After waking up the rest of the group, everyone made their way to Dean's room. Jo and Charlie changed into their pajamas in the hallway bathroom and everyone else changed in Dean's room. After slipping on some comfortable sweatpants and his thin night sweater, Castiel went to the bathroom when Jo and Charlie were finished, and removed his contacts, having some trouble sliding them off of his dry eyes. After storing his contacts in their container and placing them on the sink counter, Castiel sleepily brushed his teeth before making his way back towards Dean's room.

Everyone agreed that the girls would take Dean's bed and the guys would take the mattress on the floor (it was a king size). So Castiel squeezed in between Chuck and Dean, trying to get comfortable as the guys all complained at each other to "scooch over". He ended up sleeping on his side facing Dean. Dean was sleeping on his side, as well, his back to Castiel, and the dark-haired boy observed the back of his friend's blond head before he fell fast asleep, dreaming of licorice wheels, green eyes, and a warm arm against his own.

* * *

**So you guys basically owe this chapter to my good friend, "more-profound-bond"! She has encouraged me to complete this chapter, and if it wasn't for her i probably woulda never gotten it done! **

**ALSO PLEASE PLEASE if you guys could check out her destiel AU fic, "Dear Diary", that'd be awesome! It's a super cute AU set in the 1980's where Castiel works for Dean and they have all these fluffy moments and literally it's squeal worthy! It deserves more support than it's getting, so please check it out! LIKE HONESTLY IT'S BETTER THAN THIS DUMB FIC SRSLY**

**I'm gonna put a link to her fic in my profile if you guys cant find it! n_n yayyyy! Please read it and leave her nice comments, she's sucha sweet heart and such a great writer! **

**YAYYY so i hope you guys enjoyed this fluff-filled chapter BECAUSE THE FLUFF WILL NOT LAST FOREVER *EVIL LAUGHTER***

**Be prepared.**

**Anyways, **

**thanks for the lovely support, everyone :') i'd be no one without you all.**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	15. Falling

When Dean woke up, he was impossibly hard. And, honestly, he couldn't blame himself. Castiel's legs had been entwined with his own, and he was just so _warm_ against Dean's side, curling into his arm and snoozing away so goddamn peacefully while Dean could barely collect his own thoughts, blushing fervently and trying to calm his racing heart.

It also didn't help his current, very embarrassing situation when he looked over at Cas and noticed the teen's sweater had hiked up slightly, exposing a sliver of his hipbones and stomach and-

Oh, God.

Swallowing thickly, Dean maneuvered himself carefully out of Castiel's legs and checked to make sure everyone was asleep. He looked at his alarm clock, and noticed that it was only nine in the morning.

Sighing, Dean got out of the warmth of the bed (and of Castiel's fucking cuddling) and grabbed some clothes before heading to the bathroom to take a long hot shower and work on his... predicament.

For fuck's sake, this was going too far. Since when did Dean get turned on by guys? I mean, yeah, he found Castiel to be attractive, but just fucking sleeping next to him had given Dean the worst case of morning wood he had ever woken up to. This was crazy- it was _insane_. Dean wasn't gay, damnit!

So he thought of his night with Lisa instead as he worked himself, coming with an unsatisfied grunt before he washed thoroughly, taking his time in the shower to sort out his thoughts.

It was just hormones. It was just Dean's body doing the thinking, not his mind. There was no way he was gay for Castiel. That's just fucking ridiculous.

Sighing as he relaxed his body under the constant pressure of warm water, Dean focused on the trickling of the liquid as it ran between his shoulder blades, soothing his back and easing up his tense muscles. Dean ran fingers through his hair as he furiously rubbed soap into it, as if trying to clean his mind of all dirty thoughts of Castiel.

Cas was great- he really was. He's the best and closest friend Dean has ever had. He seemed to be one of the few people that could understand what Dean went through, living without a mother and taking care of himself and his brother on his own. Sometimes they'll just look at each other and just _know _what the other is thinking about. Words don't even need to be exchanged, just the pigments of blue and green searching through frantic minds.

Heck, even Sam liked Cas. Dean smiled when he remembered watching Cas and Sam talk while he got their food at Burger King, yesterday. He remembered Castiel's calming stature and encouraging grins and he could see Sam's hands moving as he talked, his body sitting up straight with enthusiasm. Cas was so good with Sam, and if Dean wasn't on his hands and knees (all jokes aside) for the guy before, he _definitely _was after seeing the way Cas handled Dean's little brother so nicely.

Dean sighed again as he realized how fast he was falling for this guy.

Castiel was a magnet and Dean was the helpless, pitiful piece of insignificant iron- always attracted to the blue-eyed teen's pure goodness and honesty and alluring aura. People were bound to figure out Dean's feelings sooner or later. Hell, when Cas is in the same room as him Dean can barely keep away for five minutes before he's right next to him, fucking reaching out to touch him in some subtle way that he would subconsciously hope Cas didn't notice.

He wanted to do more, though.

Dean wanted to hold Castiel's hand- he wanted to run fingers down Castiel's arms, the soft scrape of his nails pressing lightly into Castiel's smooth skin and exploring the muscles that laid beneath. He wanted to pull Castiel close so they're chest to chest, warmth emanating through their slightest movements. He wanted to feel Cas's heartbeat through the fabric of their shirts and the skin of their bodies. He wanted to fucking kiss those soft, inviting lips and claim Castiel as his own.

He never felt like this about anyone. Dean never grew attached in any way to all his one-night stands. His longest fucking relationship was about a month, and it wasn't even official- it was all physical pleasure and making out in empty hallways.

But Dean didn't want just that from Cas. He wanted to _be _with him. He wanted to learn about him and comfort him and laugh with him and, _damnit_, Dean just wanted to be able to stay up all night with Cas talking about shit that doesn't matter until they fell asleep together, comforted by the other's presence and not feeling the need for physical stimulation.

These needs were so abundant in Dean's mind and body and goddamned soul that he could hardly contain it- gazing at Cas when he wasn't looking and trying to touch him in the smallest of ways as he slowly let his wants trickle out of the dam that kept them back, sliver by aching, unfulfilling sliver. And, sometimes, when they would talk and look at each other, Dean felt as though he could see the same thoughts going through Castiel's own mind- his eyes begging Dean to take the next step and make him his.

But Dean knew it was just his lovesick, hormone drunken mind convincing him of these things. Castiel didn't like Dean- not in that way, at least. He was just overall kind and understanding and tuned in to everyone's energy and presence. Castiel looked at everyone with intense interest when they spoke to them, not just Dean- Dean wasn't _special_.

He had seen the way Castiel sat on the couch with Chuck, legs crossed and torso leaning forward as he faced the teen, light blue eyes wide with interest and head bobbing with nods, lips quirking into smiles. Castiel hadn't even noticed Dean observing him- he had been so preoccupied with giving Chuck his full attention. That had been enough to send Dean to the kitchen where he drank a beer and tried to tell himself to stop overreacting.

It wasn't only Chuck that Castiel had been animated with last night. When Charlie had taken her seat next to Castiel Dean paid close attention to the tight press of their sides, the way Charlie was leaning into Castiel when she told him stories that he listened intently to, laughing and snorting adorably while he responded to the redhead, his gravelly voice so goddamn alluring. Dean had felt a pang of jealousy when Charlie ran her hand through Cas's hair, playing with it and commenting on it. He fucking wished he could do that without being considered odd. He wanted to declare Castiel as his own, he wanted Castiel's hair and arms and laughter and blue eyes all to belong to _him_.

He didn't hold a grudge against Charlie or Chuck, though. They were Castiel's friends, too, and they were more than allowed to talk to him and elbow him and ruffle his hair playfully. But that understanding wasn't enough to stop the pure envy he felt radiating from his chest when Charlie had laid her head comfortably on Castiel's lap, his delicate fingers running through her hair in gentle, mindless caresses as he lulled her to sleep. Dean wanted that to be him, _fuck_, he needed it _so bad_. He wanted to lie his head on Castiel's lap- he wanted to feel those fingers rake through his hair as the warmth of Castiel's stomach and legs heated his head and neck and eased him to sleep.

Blinking, Dean shook his head. He was crushing badly. There was no denying it, no matter how much he wanted to. But he just couldn't put his wants into action. He couldn't risk their friendship and he didn't want to feel heartbroken and in pain when Castiel would undoubtedly deny him.

Dean wasn't good enough. He'd never be good enough for those beautiful ocean of eyes and those soft full lips and the feel of Castiel's hands in his hair. Dean didn't deserve it, and he knew that. Castiel was smart. He was kind and loving and thoughtful and- fuck, he's everything Dean isn't. The last person Cas would ever want to be with would be Dean, whether he were gay, straight, or bi.

Feeling uneasiness settle into his stomach, Dean took some calming breaths and steeled his emotions before he turned off the water with a squeak of the handle.

But he knew that trying to hide his feelings wouldn't work.

As soon as he sets gaze on those blue eyes, Dean knew he'd be lost.

* * *

Castiel stirred awake to the slightly blurry sight of Dean rubbing his hair with a towel, the muscles of his arm rippling with movement underneath his black t-shirt. Castiel raised an appreciative eyebrow before Dean caught his gaze, freezing in his movement.

"Hey, Cas," he whispered, giving his friend a smile.

Castiel smiled back sleepily, sitting up. "'Lo," he responded, looking around the room to see that everyone was still asleep. "What time's it?" He asked, squinting for his backpack before he pulled it over, retrieving his glasses.

"It's only ten," Dean responded. "You should sleep a little more," he suggested when Castiel yawned.

"M'not sleepy," he protested, stretching in his seat on the mattress. His stomach suddenly growled and Castiel jumped slightly, shocked. "I suppose I'm hungry, though," he added with an embarrassed grin.

Dean nodded. "Let's get some breakfast," he suggested. "You know, I could teach you how to cook a little," Dean offered, smiling brightly now.

Castiel felt his heart flutter. Cooking over a hot stove when Dean already made him feel abnormally warm inside… the idea quickened his pulse and made him frantic, but he nodded with an enthusiastic smile. "Sure, I'd like that," he responded.

"Alright, let's go," he whispered quietly, tossing his towel onto his desk chair.

They made their way to the kitchen and Dean began pulling out eggs, milk, butter and some basil from the fridge. He also grabbed some cheese and placed the ingredients on the counter .

"We're gonna make a little bit of eggs for just us right now," Dean began. "Everyone's still asleep so we'll make it fresh for them when they wake up," he told Cas.

Castiel nodded. "What kind of eggs are we making?" He asked as he subtly walked closer to where Dean was standing by the stovetop.

"Well, we're gonna go for scrambled since it's the easiest," Dean began as he reached up towards a cupboard to grab a bowl. "Could you grab a pan?" He asked. "They're in the cupboard beneath the stove," he explained.

So Castiel did, reaching around Dean for the pan. When he retrieved it he handed it to Dean, who thanked him and placed it over the stove, putting it over medium heat. "You're gonna wanna butter the pan," Dean explained as he cut off a small square from the stick held in his hand. "Otherwise it'll make one helluva mess for you to scrub off afterwards," Dean told him. "And that's advice from experience," he added with a smirk.

Castiel laughed, nodding. "Alright. Butter the pan, got it," he reassured. "What next?"

"Now we're gonna mix the eggs into a bowl," he said, lifting up the carton of eggs and bowl and placing it closer to Castiel on the countertop, sidling in next to his friend.

Cas could feel his heart race when he smelled Dean's after-shower heat brush off of him, bathing Castiel in the clean and fresh scent. He forced himself not to inhale the enticing aroma, because Dean was bound to notice and that would be hard to explain.

"The way I crack open eggs is by cracking them against each other," Dean explained as he tapped two brown eggs against one another gently but with careful force. "Only one of them will break, and then you slip your thumbs between the break and kinda pull it open gently," Dean explained as he demonstrated, emptying egg yolk and whites into the bowl. "Here, you try," he instructed, handing Castiel the egg he used and another one.

Nodding, Castiel took the eggs, purposefully letting his fingers brush Dean's just the tiniest bit so he could feel that surge of energy and electricity travel under his skin. He tapped the eggs against one another over the bowls, doing so gently….

* * *

Cas sticks out his tongue when he concentrates, Dean noted as he found his gaze travelling to Castiel's lips where the tiny pink tip of his tongue stuck out from a corner, his mouth hanging open slightly as blue eyes focused. Dean almost didn't realize Castiel was having a hard time.

Blinking, Dean smiled when he saw the two perfectly intact eggs still held within Castiel's gentle hands (fuck, he had never wanted to be a pair of goddamn chicken eggs until now), his fingers grasping around the spherical objects.

"You gotta go a little harder, Cas," Dean instructed. "Not too hard, though," he added, just incase Castiel decided to slam the eggs together under misconception of Dean's words.

Castiel smirked sheepishly. "I just… don't want to make a mess," he explained as he glanced up at Dean then back to the task at hand, tapping the eggs together slightly harder, but barely.

Dean laughed. "That's the whole point of cooking, Cas," Dean encouraged. "It's all one big mess."

Reassured by Dean's words, Castiel tapped the eggs harder.

One of them cracked and Castiel let out a little "oh" of surprise before putting the intact egg on the counter and opening the cracked one, prying it open as Dean had instructed.

Dean smiled proudly. "There you go, what'd I tell you?" He spoke as he grabbed another egg, handing the two to Castiel. "Try again," he encouraged.

Castiel did, and it went much smoother the second time.

When they had three eggs in their bowl, Dean got a fork and mixed them around a bit before adding some milk to the mix.

"Y'don't wanna add too much, or else it'll be too liquidy and it won't cook well," Dean instructed. "Just a little bit to soften the eggs and make them fluffier," Dean told him before having Castiel add some salt and pepper to the mix. Dean mixed the concoction and then poured it onto the pan, the loud sizzling from the impact filling the kitchen.

He had Castiel shred some cheese into the eggs, adding some salt and pepper to their breakfast. Dean watched proudly as the blue-eyed teen scrambled the eggs with a spatula, putting some basil in on Dean's instruction.

Pretty soon they were sitting across from one another at the dining table (although Dean really wanted to sit beside him) and Dean took a bite from his eggs and toast. It tasted amazing, and Dean downed it with a sip of orange juice.

"Good job, Cas," he complimented, noticing the teen's face redden at the complement.

"It wasn't too difficult," Castiel replied, taking a bite from his breakfast.

"I'll teach you some harder recipes," Dean promised with a smile. Castiel brightened at that, and they continued to talk about things they could make. Castiel spoke about a pineapple upside-down cake he and his mother used to make, and he said he would search for the recipe. Dean wanted to ask Cas more about what he and his mother used to bake, but he stopped himself. The fact that Castiel wanted to share his mother's baking recipes with Dean had made the blond teen's chest fill with self pride. Cas trusted Dean enough to take part in baking with him, something that Dean knew was an activity reserved specifically for the teen and his deceased-mother. It made Dean feel sort of happy to know that Castiel was slowly but surely growing more comfortable around Dean with every day they spent together.

When they were finished, Dean took their plates and washed them, ignoring Castiel's protests of how he was perfectly capable of washing his own plate. When everything was cleaned up (Castiel put away all the recipes they had used) the two teens made their way to the living room where they watched the remainder of their most previous Indiana Jones movie, Dean being sure to sit on the far side of the couch away from Castiel. Despite his aching want to sit close, Dean squelched it with the thought of what had happened when they slept next to each other last night. That thought shamed him and put him off from trying to attempt to flirt with Cas subtly.

They watched the movie in a comfortable silence until a sleepy Sam and Andy shuffled in.

"Morning, Sammy," Dean greeted his little brother.

"It's not really morning, anymore," his brother responded. Dean looked at the clock to see that it was already one.

"Oh. I guess it's not," he agreed. "I should wake up the others," Dean commented to Cas before getting off the couch to head to his room. Everyone was still fast asleep, exactly in the positions they had been in previously. Dean woke them up with great effort, eventually having to promise a breakfast of eggs and pancakes to get everyone out of bed grumpily.

With some moans of protest and incoherent mumbles, the group walked to the living room where they all gathered around the living room table, since the dining table did not have enough seats. Jo and Cas offered to help Dean with breakfast, since there were seven hungry teenagers that Dean would have to feed. He let them, and Cas and Dean decided to work on the pancakes first while Jo got the eggs ready.

Dean taught Cas how to make his special pancakes, revealing that he added bits of banana to his mix and some vanilla and cinnamon. Making the mix had been easy for Castiel, but guiding him through flipping the pancakes had proven to be difficult. Dean had grabbed an extra pan so he could work on flipping pancakes beside his friend. Castiel had a hard time making nice-looking circles, and Dean gave him words of encouragement. He told Cas he was doing great, even when one of his pancakes turned into a globby mess, looking like it had been mistaken for scrambled eggs. Castiel had gone all red and embarrassed, apologizing relentlessly when he looked over to see Dean's perfect circle of a pancake. Dean had told him it was alright, but Castiel still felt awful after messing up a second pancake (not as bad this time), saying that Dean's always turned out so well and expressing his jealousy when he couldn't seem to get it right. So, Dean messed up his pancakes as well, turning the rounded edge of the circle into a squiggly mess and purposefully making his lumpy.

When Castiel's eyes had widened at Dean's action, the blond teen laughed, telling him that now both of theirs were crappy. Castiel had smiled at that, and Jo had laughed from her eggs and toast station, telling the two that the group of cranky teenagers squatting in the living room would not be pleased.

That only made Cas and Dean continue in their antics, messing up every pancake's form until there was a stack of impossibly shaped golden pancakes on a plate and they were doubled over with laughter, having to calm themselves so they could take a deep breath of much needed air. But every time they looked at the shameful stack of Frankenstein pancakes, they'd just end up laughing again.

With a roll of her eyes, Jo went to deliver some plates, silverware, and a jug of syrup to the living room, coming back to use the now-empty stove as she completed her eggs. Dean had Cas bring the pancakes to the living room and told him he could stay behind with the others, since all Dean had to do was clean up. When Castiel asked what he should say when the group saw the pancakes, Dean chuckled and told him to say they were special.

After much reassuring that he doesn't mind cleaning up, Castiel listened to his friend and picked up the plate of their monstrous breakfast, heading to the living room. As he left Dean watched his retreating figure before turning around to clean out the pancake mix bowl, grabbing it from the counter and walking to the sink.

Jo's eyebrow-raised look aimed towards Dean was what stopped him, though, freezing him in his spot- bowl in his hand.

"What?" He asked, the need to be defensive rising in his throat.

Jo only smiled, though, shaking her head before turning back to her eggs. "You have it so bad," she commented, mixing the eggs in the pan as she added some cheese.

Dean's eyes widened, his heart racing. "What are you-" he began, but Jo looked at him with a "no bullshit" expression and Dean held his tongue, realizing arguing with her would be impossible. He shuffled awkwardly in his spot before making his way to the sink to wash his bowl. "Don't you think I already know that?" He commented gruffly, angry that he couldn't keep back the statement.

He could see Jo turn to face him from his peripheral vision, but he didn't want to look at her. This was the closest Dean has ever gotten to telling somebody his emotions, and honestly it felt really fucking good not to keep it all to himself. It was like he was letting a little more of his needs leak from the dam within him. So he scrubbed at his bowl, trying to lessen the blush that crept into his cheeks.

"Why don't you tell him?" Jo asked, genuinely curious.

Dean gritted his teeth. There were a thousand fucking reasons.

_One_, Dean's dad would kill him if he were to come out gay.

_Two_, Castiel didn't like him back.

_Three_, he would ruin his friendship with Cas just like he ruined every other fucking relationship he's had with people he cares about.

_Four_, Cas was too fucking good for him.

_Five_, Dean was just really fucking _scared._

There were so many reasons, but he couldn't tell any of those to Jo. The last thing he wanted was to sound like a teenaged girl going through relationship and self-esteem issues.

"Those eggs are gonna burn if you don't keep mixing them," Dean commented, looking Jo dead in the eyes as he steeled his emotions, setting his face neutral.

Jo moved the pan off of the stove, turning off the dial. She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "Why won't you tell him?" She asked again, brown eyes searching Dean's demandingly.

Dean's jaw clenched as he tried to lie to her- tried to distract from the conversation they were having. Because, damnit, how could he talk about his feelings when he didn't even fully understand them, himself?

"It's complicated, Jo," he replied through his teeth before turning back to wash his already-clean bowl.

"It sure as hell doesn't look like it," Jo retorted. "You like him, and he obviously likes you back. Why don't you just go for it?" She asked.

Dean was definitely blushing, now, and no amount of self power could prevent that. He took a deep breath and let it out. "How could you possibly know that?" He asked as he forced himself to look at Jo, needing to see for himself whether she was lying or not. Castiel's feelings towards Dean was a sensitive topic in his distorted thoughts, and Dean didn't want to get any false hopes that would later be shut down.

Jo raised her eyebrow again. "Are you kidding me?" She asked. When Dean just stared at her seriously, her eyebrows furrowed. "You- you haven't even _noticed?_" She asked. "_Jesus_, you don't even have to _look_, the sexual tension between you two makes the air a mile around five times thicker," Jo commented.

Dean glared. "Jo, I really don't-"

"_Wait_, I'm not finished," Jo interrupted, putting a hand up to stop him from talking. "Besides the intense eye sex you two always have, you can literally _see_ the chemistry between you guys. You'd have to be blind not to," Jo told him. "I mean, _come on, _Dean," she added, arms outstretched in exasperation.

Dean huffed out a breath, looking at the wall to his right before he looked in the direction of the living room. His gaze moved to Jo and he looked at her almost brokenly. "I like him, Jo. But there's no way he likes me, and it's obvious," he replied, feeling the need to vomit. God, he was admitting it. He was saying it aloud and now there's no turning back. He was letting Jo see the worst of him- the thoughts he had about himself that he couldn't even think about for too long before he grew sick. "He's just _nice _to me because I'm nice to him. It's how he is with everyone, and it doesn't make me fucking special, alright?" He told her. "I don't even know why the fuck I'm telling you this," he said as he went back to washing his bowl. There was no talking for a few minutes as Jo stared incredulously at her friend.

"Do you _honestly _feel that low about yourself?" Jo asked, astonished. Dean's silence did the answering for her, and her eyes widened. "Dean…" she began, but Dean turned off the sink harshly, placing the bowl on the counter as he grabbed a towel to wipe his hands.

He turned to face the blond girl, pointing at her. "Not a word of this, we clear?" He ordered, definitely past talking about it any further.

Jo pursed her lips agitatedly, but she eventually nodded. "Not a word," she agreed.

That's when Dean left to the living room, avoiding sitting next to Castiel on the couch as he plopped down on the empty love seat, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

This sucked.

After Jo had come in with the eggs and joined the group at the table in the living room, Dean felt the couch cushion beside him sink. He looked to his left to see Cas giving him a big smile.

"Hello," the glasses-clad teen greeted, and Dean blinked with shock.

"Hi," he replied before looking away and at the floor. He could almost see the dark mop of hair tilt to the side in Castiel's signature questioning look. Dean felt Castiel's warm arm bump into his own comfortingly.

"So will we still be having our Mission Impossible marathon, tonight?" Castiel asked, smiling brightly when Dean looked up at him.

Dean felt his heart race when he saw Jo looking at him out of the corner of his eye, a smirk on her lips.

He tore his gaze away from her and averted it to his friend. Castiel had approached Dean when he hadn't sat next to him. Castiel had reached out to Dean because he knew something was up, and because he _cared. _Even if Castiel didn't feel the same towards Dean as Dean felt towards Cas, he knew he still had one hell of an awesome friend.

Gazing at Cas's eyes for a second, he nodded, smiling back at his friend.

"Yeah. Sure, Cas," Dean agreed with a quirk of his lips.

Castiel looked satisfied. "I'm excited," he told his friend. "It will be fun," he commented before leaning back into the couch.

Dean was really smiling, now. "Yeah, it will," he replied.

So Dean buried away the frantic, troubled thoughts within his mind. He didn't want to deal with them when Castiel was so close and so warm and so very _here._

Smiling to himself, Dean listened to his friends comment on their pancakes, shoving it around their plates like a science experiment gone wrong.

* * *

It was nine o'clock, and the last of the guests had left. Sam was in his room fast asleep (he was still burnt out from staying up the other night) and Bobby had given Dean a knowing look when he learned that Dean and Cas would be staying up watching movies… alone. He had retreated to his room, telling Dean he'd give him and his _"friend" _some time to themselves. Dean had glared at his uncle as he retreated, fighting the blush that spread through his cheeks. Thank God Castiel hadn't been there to hear that comment or see Dean's flustered response.

This was the first time Dean and Cas would be hanging out by themselves. And, even though Dean has hung out with Cas a bunch, he felt sorta nervous.

Geez, Dean was turning into such a girl about this whole thing. I mean, it's just _Cas_. This weird thing Dean has for him will probably go away, soon. It's probably just a phase.

Keeping that in mind, Dean made a bowl of popcorn and prepared the leftover snacks and candy from the previous night while Cas showered (in _Dean's _shower, using _Dean's _shampoo and _Dean's _body wash).

Stowing away the thought of Castiel smelling like Dean's soap, the blond teen sorted through his Mission Impossible movies. He had the first three, and those alone would take about six hours to watch. Dean wondered if Castiel was alright with staying up late, again. He normally gave up at around two, and the movies would most likely end at around three.

They should just go to sleep. They should go to sleep and not do this and not sit so close to each other and talk to each other and-

Cas walked into the room wearing a hoodie and a pair of light gray sweatpants, glasses propped on his nose and hair damp from his shower. It was by far the most casual Dean had ever seen the teen, and he stopped himself from staring as he sat down on the couch, being sure to leave enough room for Cas to sit a distance away.

Grabbing the remote, Dean looked back at his friend, giving a smile. "You ready?" He asked.

Castiel smiled, blue eyes crinkling with those adorable crow's feet as he nodded. "Yes," he responded, grabbing the bowl of popcorn on the table and sitting next to Dean- close, despite the room the blond boy had left- as he placed the bowl of popcorn between them. Dean could smell his shampoo in Castiel's hair and his body wash on his skin, mixing with the scent of Cas's clothes. Somehow, Castiel's signature scent still made its way to Dean's senses, overriding all of Dean's bathing products. He still smelled like Cas, but with just a little bit of Dean added on.

It was a nice combination.

Taking a deep breath, Dean clicked play.

He tried to act normal throughout the movie, commenting on things like usual and double checking to make sure Cas was watching during his favorite parts. He even got Cas to laugh a couple of times when he would quote a whole scene very dramatically and make some jokes about the special effects.

By the time Dean had put the second movie in the DVD player and sat on the couch, Cas spoke up.

"Thank you for letting me stay here, Dean," Castiel told him with a soft smile when his friend looked over at him. "I really appreciate everything you've done for me," he added.

Dean smiled back. "Yeah, well I'm glad you decided to come," Dean responded. "Hell, I haven't had this much fun in… ever," Dean concluded, fiddling with the remote in his hands.

Castiel was smiling as he took a swig from a coke can. "Me either," he responded.

Dean glanced at his friend before looking back at the movie as he fast forwarded through previews. "Y'know, Cas, you can come over whenever you want," he told him.

He heard the teen chuckle. "Ah, don't get me used to the idea, Dean," he responded with a smile. "I must warn you I'm quite the burden," Castiel added before looking over at Dean, making the blond boy turn to meet his gaze. They stared at each other for a bit before Dean averted his eyes.

_I don't mind_, he thought.

But, of course, that's not what he said.

"Uh, well you're practically family at this point," he said. "And this is sorta a burden-carrying family," Dean added with a tight smile.

Castiel smiled softly as he looked at the screen. "Thank you," he replied. "Really. Thank you," he added when Dean had dismissed Cas's first thank you with a wave of his hand. Dean froze at the second one, unable to stop himself from looking over at his friend. His voice sounded grateful- relieved, almost. It was the most genuine thing he had ever heard from the dark-haired boy.

Dean's smile was real this time, and it warmed him, brushing away all his worries from throughout the day. "You're welcome. Now quiet down, the movie is starting," he said as he stopped his fast forwarding right in time for the opening credits.

Castiel turned out loving the movies. He didn't fall asleep, eyes glued on the screen and voice encouraging Dean to put in the third movie when they had finished their second one.

Cas was enthralled with the flaming cheetos Dean had bought. After much enthusiastic urging on Dean's part, the teen agreed to try it when Dean had told him that they're not _that _spicy.

Cas ate one.

Then before Dean could even comprehend it, the dark-haired teen ate the whole bag, clutching onto it throughout the movie. His hand would disappear into the plastic of the bag every couple of seconds with almost a zombie like pattern.

Dean chuckled when he noticed Castiel looking into his empty bag with a sort of disappointed shock on his face. "Y'know, for a skinny guy you can eat like a whale, Cas," Dean commented after handing the teen a bottle of water. Cas had gone through about five different drinks as he ate the flaming cheetos, and he accepted the bottled drink with a sheepish smile.

"They tasted very good," Castiel defended. "I did not even notice I had finished them," he remarked, throwing the trash away into the garbage bag Dean had set up by the table.

"Well, I'm glad you like them," Dean replied. "I can barely eat a couple before those things burn a hole in my stomach," Dean commented. He didn't like them too much, to be honest. He had mostly given the snack to Cas to see his reaction when he realized how spicy they were. That didn't happen, of course, and Dean was thoroughly disappointed when Castiel commented on how Dean was right, they're not spicy.

"I believe I'm starting to feel the effect," Castiel commented bitterly after finishing his bottle of water and tossing it into the garbage bag, reaching for another coke.

Dean laughed as he noticed Castiel sticking his tongue out slightly. "Sorry, Cas," he apologized as his friend downed gulps of the cold soda. "But I didn't expect you to eat the whole damn bag," he pointed out.

So Dean paused the movie, doubled over laughing, as Castiel excused himself to go to the bathroom where he brushed his teeth and use some mouthwash. He walked back into the room with a grumpy look on his face, and sat down next to Dean unconsciously, so their sides pressed against one another. That had shut up Dean quick, and he turned the movie back on as he tried to relax his tense muscles and lean back into the worn cushions of his couch.

"I still think they taste good," Castiel commented in a sort of stubborn way. Dean laughed, again.

"I'll get you a small bag next time, Cas," Dean replied with a smile.

Maybe it was the flaming Cheetos, but Castiel's body seemed extra warm against Dean's at that moment.

When they finished their movie marathon it was three forty in the morning. Castiel retreated to Dean's room while Dean went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and rinse his mouth out with mouthwash. He walked into his room greeted with the site of Castiel lying on his back, arms crossed under his head and sweater riding up over his bony hips, again.

For fuck's sake, was Cas purposefully trying to turn Dean on?

Cas had taken off his glasses, and his blue eyes gazed up at the white of the ceiling in an almost concentrating way- eyebrows furrowed and lips drawn into a line.

"Cas?" Dean called quietly, almost hesitant as to whether or not he should interrupt the teen's deep thinking.

Cas started, sitting up and looking at Dean. "Yes?" He asked.

Dean licked his lips, shuffling by the foot of his bed. "Are you alright?" He asked. "You seemed," he broke off, gesturing to nothing.

Castiel gave a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine," he replied. "Just tired," he reassured as he curled up into his mattress, dragging his blanket over him. "Goodnight, Dean," he murmured.

"Goodnight," he replied before slipping into his own bed, settling into the mattress and letting the dark of his room ease his thoughts.

He fell asleep.

* * *

**Wow, quick update n_n sorry for the short chapters, I just wanna get the slow parts of this story over with so I can get back to the main stuff! I'm trying not to rush, so bear with me!**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I wanted to kinda do Dean's POV on the whole thing he and Cas have going on, since I felt as though this story was focusing too much on Cas's thoughts and feelings. **

**Let me know what you think about the whole "Dean" chapter, and let me know if you'd like more chapters of Dean's POV :) (i noticed i stopped doing those a while ago!)**

**Anyways, thanks so much for reviewing and following and reading! I love you all, you're so great n_n**

**Have a great day, and enjoy the chapter!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	16. Drifting

On Sunday morning, Dean brought Cas home.

The next two weeks had been quiet- uneventful, almost.

Castiel and Dean paired up on a project for Lit class, so now Castiel had excuses to give his father for going over to the Winchester's so often. His father hadn't yelled at Castiel or hurt him in quite a while, mostly due to the cases he was working and his extremely busy schedule. His father had even begun to let Castiel eat, again after the teen had shown him his eighty-nine average (a product of acing a project that counted towards a big part of his grade). Things were definitely less tense in the Novak household, and Castiel was very grateful for that.

Castiel's bruises were already healing, his face back to its regular color due to Castiel's many treatments he performed. His abdomen had healed, and the school nurse had even checked up on Castiel a few times (since he refused to have his dad take him to a doctor) and checked for internal bleeding every now and then. She said it was a miracle that Castiel hadn't gotten as injured as he should have. Castiel blamed the fact that Alastair is a wimpy kicker.

He hadn't cut since the Saturday after his birthday, and his wounds were starting to heal fast, leaving behind reddened scars that awaited new companions. Dean had asked Castiel about the cut on his palm (from when Castiel had gripped onto his razor during his panic attack the Saturday after his birthday), but Castiel had just told his friend that he had broken a glass at his house and cut his palm while cleaning. Dean believed him, and Castiel promised himself he wouldn't cut, again. He honestly didn't feel the need to, anymore. But when he did get those urges- those tugs in his chest and those dark voices whispering in his mind, Castiel would just text Dean and they would talk about random things until the feeling slowly slithered away, buried in the back of his head along with all the other taunting thoughts.

Castiel tutored Sam most days, and the younger teen passed every test he came across. Dean applied for the job at the auto shop back during the last day of the break, and they said they'd get back to him. A couple of days later, he had his interview. The owner (a man named Rufus) said he'd call Dean in a week, and as the week started to end Dean grew impatient. He waited anxiously, and Castiel would constantly tell him not to worry, reassuring him that he would definitely get the job. It was all Dean seemed to talk about with Castiel, nowadays. He told Cas about how much he liked the place- how he could imagine himself working there. Castiel would comfort him when he caught the blond boy checking his phone, and he'd distract him with their project, busying his friend's mind with thoughts of Tennyson, the poet the two had been assigned to make a presentation about.

They hung out with the group a lot during the weekends and sometimes after school. Mostly they'd all go to Charlie's house and play pool as they lounged around lazily, but it was still always fun. Castiel even went to Chuck's house the weekend after break, spending a whole Saturday there as he read the first book to Chuck's series. Seeing how interested his friend was in it, Chuck gave him a flashdrive with the whole first book (he had edited it so the characters were now named after Sam and Dean), telling Castiel he'd add the second book on there when Cas was done. Castiel had thanked his friend, and they'd talk about the book relentlessly during lunch at school, Jo rolling her eyes when she overheard them as she commented on it as well with a teasing smile. Jo had known about the books for a long time, apparently. It was actually how Jo and Chuck met. Apparently back in middle school Chuck had a dream about Jo (she was in his math class) being a character in his book. He had gone up to her the next day and told her, and instead of finding it weird Jo was intrigued. They had become friends instantly, and Jo has read every piece of writing Chuck has produced. Jo asked Chuck if he was planning on killing her off in the novel (since apparently that's what happened to most characters) and he simply shrugged, saying that he'd do what came to him in his dreams.

Jo and Dean grew close, Castiel noted. They seemed to have a sort of unspoken connection, looking at each other with the same face and talking in hushed whispers every now and then. At first, Castiel felt a pang of panic when he thought that maybe Dean had feelings forJo. But after observing closely for a course of a few days he realized that they were just friends and nothing more, and he felt rather silly for thinking otherwise.

Alastair stopped bullying Castiel, mostly. All the in-school attacks had stopped, that's for sure. But the principle couldn't control what Alastair did outside of school. There was one incident in particular where Dean and Cas were walking out of a store after buying supplies for their project when they had been pelted by what seemed to be about ten eggs. The eggs had been assailed at them from the window of a driving pick-up truck, and the howls of laughter that followed could not be mistaken for any other than Alastair and his friends.

They had quickly driven away with a very pissed off Dean cursing them out, yelling obscenities and threats before Castiel managed to get him to calm down, putting a hand on his shoulder as the older Winchester's muscles relaxed. He remembered Dean looking at Castiel with confusion and what seemed like angry sadness, and that's when Castiel gave him a small smile, telling Dean not to let Alastair gain the pleasure of seeing him angry.

Dean had taken Cas to his house after that, and he let him borrow an old green long-sleeve of his, along with a pair of sweatpants while their clothes tumbled around in the washing machine as they worked on their project. The shirt smelled like Dean's cologne, and Castiel would constantly put the sleeve to his nose to sniff whenever Dean wasn't looking, trying to memorize the scent so he could search for it in a store.

Dean never did ask for his clothes back, Castiel noted.

And Castiel may or may not have slept in the shirt later that night so his bed could smell like Dean.

Early the next day, Dean and Cas had their revenge. They got to school around six (having to deal with dropping off a cranky Sam) and Dean picklocked Alastair's locker and put a giant gross fish in there, adding two eggs just for the heck of it. Castiel then jammed the lock in a way so it couldn't get open without the help of a custodian. Needless to say, after a couple hours of indoor heating a not-very-nice smell had filled most of hall B. Alastair had given Castiel and Dean nasty glares when they went into the locker room at gym class later that day.

It gave something for Dean and Cas to laugh about as they ran the track together, sneaking glances at a grumpy Alastair before bursting into hysterical laughter that grabbed the attention of basically the whole gym class.

After the whole incident with the lunchroom, Dean walked Castiel to most of his classes, letting Jo and Charlie walk him to his others. Castiel was never alone, except in classes where he didn't have his friends. Even then, he'd see them waiting for him right outside the hallway when his class was over.

Castiel stayed behind in detention with Dean, even though he didn't need to. He pretended to be doing extra work for Ms. Madison so Alastair and Gordon couldn't tell on him, and he kept Dean company for the week. He'd sit by his friend after finishing wiping Ms. Madison's whiteboard and helping her grade papers, and they'd play hangman for hours (since there were no cell phones allowed). Castiel would always try to lean in along with Dean as they hunched over the piece of paper, bodies so close together and the warm air between them buzzing with electricity that he had grown addicted to, these days.

And if Ms. Madison gazed at the two teens with a fond smile on her face, Castiel was sure to ignore it.

On a Monday during the fifth of December, Dean was in a great mood when he picked up Castiel from his house to go to school. Led Zeppelin was playing in the car, and Castiel smiled, knowing what was up before he could even think to ask.

"You got the job?" He exclaimed, smiling wide when Dean's smile brightened.

Dean laughed, nodding. "I got it!" He replied.

Castiel let out a breathy laugh of astonishment, patting his friend on the shoulder after he settled into his seat. "You see?" He began, smiling wide as he squeezed Dean's shoulder and let go. "I told you you would!" He reminded him.

Dean gave Castiel his best toothpaste-commercial smile, the crinkles that lined his bright green eyes enhancing his happy features all the more. "Yeah, you did," he agreed, pulling out of the driveway as they made their way to school.

"When did they call you back?" Castiel asked. He wanted to know every detail.

"After I dropped off Sammy early for his study session this morning. I literally just heard the news thirty minutes ago," Dean explained, a grin plastered almost permanently on his face. So that's why Dean was still so ecstatic.

Castiel was full of energy, happy for his friend. "When do you start?" He asked, eager to learn more.

"This Wednesday," Dean replied. "I work Wednesdays through Saturdays," he added.

Castiel's smile suddenly dropped as he realized how little they'd be hanging out, now. Dean noticed the quiet response and glanced at his friend, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, cheer up," he responded with a pat on Castiel's arm. "I'll still be able to drop you off and hang out some days. I'll text you the hours, 'kay?" He suggested with a smile.

Castiel smiled back, the happy mood returning. It was selfish of him to be upset. Dean had been waiting to get this job for weeks. "Yeah, I know. I'm happy for you, Dean," Castiel replied truthfully as they pulled into the school and got out of the car.

So they made their way to homeroom, Dean talking about what he'd be doing at the auto shop and explaining his work hours to Cas, texting it down on his phone before he sent it to his friend.

When they got to lunch later in the day, Jo noticed Dean's very sunny personality right away.

"What are you so happy about?" She asked with a smile as Dean sat next to her and Cas sat across from him, in his regular seat between Chuck and Adam.

Dean gave her a cheeky smile. "I got a job at an auto shop," he responded.

"He's been waiting to hear back from them for a while," Castiel added in an undertone when Jo's eyebrows furrowed.

Suddenly, she slumped her shoulders. "Well, congratz and all but if you had told me you wanted a job I coulda given you one!" She began. "My mom needs a waiter for her diner," Jo added.

Dean scrunched up his nose. "Eh, that's not really my thing, Jo. I'd rather fix up cars than walk around carrying food and jotting down orders," Dean replied, taking a sip from his water bottle. "Let me know if you guys need a chef one day," he added with an eyebrow raise and a smirk.

Castiel suddenly got a rush of motivation. "I could work at the diner," he offered. He wanted to start earning money, and if he got the job his father couldn't stop him from working there, especially now that he had met Ellen and would know how forceful she could get.

Jo smiled, eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Y'know, that'd be awesome!" She replied. "Ash and I already work there, so you'd be able to hang out with us," she added with another smile.

Castiel smiled. "I'd like that," he responded.

Jo clapped her hands together, pink lips stretched into a smile. "Perfect! Let me run it by my mom and then I'll call you," she promised him.

Castiel nodded, and the table continued to congratulate Dean on his job, asking him for his work schedule so they'd know when he'd be able to hang out. Dean explained it all to them, and there were a few complaints when they realized how much he'd be working. Nonetheless, they were all very happy for their friend.

Dean and Cas talked to one another about their project for the rest of class, Castiel moving to sit next to Dean as they leaned over their notes and other sheets, shoulders touching and air buzzing. Castiel savored this moment with his friend, because he knew that they would not be seeing much of each other, anymore.

* * *

When Castiel had gone home that day, he studied relentlessly for his math test he'd be having on Wednesday. It would be their last test of the semester, and the rest of the last two weeks would be used for reviewing and preparing for the semester exam. Even though his father had been going easier on Castiel recently, he still knew that he wouldn't hesitate to kick him out if Castiel didn't get all A's.

So Castiel kept that in mind as he rolled the eraser of his pencil between his teeth, eyes scanning over his answers to double check them. His phone buzzed, jolting him from his concentration and he removed his pencil from his lips, put it down, and flipped open his phone to see a jumping mail emoticon with Dean's name below it.

Clicking open the message, Castiel looked at the picture that was sent. A burnt pizza sat on Dean's dining table, and a very unhappy Sam sat across from it, a pout on his face. Lips quirking in amusement, Castiel read the message below it.

_Dean: Got distracted w/ my hw & burned dinner. Sam's not amused_

Chuckling, Castiel's smile stretched wider. Just as he was about to put his phone down, another message made the small device buzz.

_Dean: The 1 time I try to do work, I burn a pizza. I shuld stop doin hw, its bad luck_

Castiel rolled his eyes, still smiling before he responded.

_Castiel: Do not use your failure to put a timer on the oven as an excuse for you not to do your Chemistry homework, Dean._

Only seconds after he had placed his phone down, it vibrated again, lighting up.

_Dean: Well excuse me mr perfect. Im bored, u shuld come ovr_

Castiel smirked. He had been at Dean's house almost every day last week.

_Castiel: I have a math test to study for. Besides, you've got Chemistry to work on._

Castiel went back to work, scribbling down equations and mathematical rules until he memorized them. His phone buzzed.

_Dean: Ur test isnt until Wed. U can help me w/ chem & i can give u a whole burnt pizza_

_Castiel: You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Winchester. But my answer still stands. No._

Putting his phone down, again, Castiel continued working. He had almost thought Dean had given up before his phone buzzed, again.

_Dean: Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssss_

Castiel ignored it, deciding Dean would give up sooner or later and let him study.

He was wrong.

_Dean: Dont b a jerk_

_Dean: Respond_

_Dean: Cmonnnn_

_Dean: Casss don't be an asss_

Sighing, Castiel's thumbs typed on the keyboard, pressing fingers into stiff buttons.

_Castiel: Tomorrow._

_Dean: Fine._

_Dean: No burnt pizza 4 u_

_Castiel: I'll try to help myself get over the emotional pain._

Not even ten minutes later, Castiel's phone buzzed with a call.

Sighing, Castiel grabbed his phone and flipped it open, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

"Dean, I swear to-"

"Cas?" Jo's voice interrupted, confused.

"Oh, hello Jo," Castiel corrected himself, sitting up straighter in his seat as he fought off the embarrassment he felt climb its way into his cheeks. "Sorry, I thought you were-"

"Dean?" She asked. "Yeah, I could tell," she spoke with a laugh.

Castiel smiled, leaning over his desk again as he moved his phone to his left hand, grabbing his pencil with his right and working on math. "How are you, Jo?" He asked absentmindedly, turning the page of his textbook as he worked on a new set of problems.

"I'm good, Cas. I'm callin' about the job," she explained. Castiel was confused for a moment before his eyebrows rose in understanding.

"Oh!" He responded, sitting up again. "Yes, what did your mother say?" He asked, feeling a nervous twist in his stomach. He had almost forgot about working at Ellen's restaurant.

"She said she'd love to have you work at the diner," Jo replied, a smile in her voice. "She just wants you to come over tomorrow to discuss work hours and rules and stuff," she explained.

"Yes, I can do that," Castiel replied, smiling into the phone now.

"Awesome! Hey, you could ride my bus if you want? It'd be easier for you to get to my house," Jo insisted.

Castiel agreed, and the two planned out where they'd meet. They bid each other a farewell, and Castiel hung up. Almost suddenly, Castiel remembered promising Dean he'd come over, tomorrow.

Quickly, he dialed Dean's number. After a ring, Dean picked up.

"Miss me, already?" Dean's snarky voice inquired. "I already threw away the pizza, Cas," Dean added as he shuffled with what sounded like silverware and plates.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "It's not that," he corrected. "I'm going to have to cancel hanging out, tomorrow," the blue-eyed boy informed his friend.

"Why?" Dean asked automatically, seeming shocked.

"I'm going to Jo's house to talk to Ellen about the job," Castiel responded, feeling guilty. He _had _promised Dean he'd hang out.

"Oh," Dean responded. The noise of silverware clinking stopped, and a silence followed.

"I'm really sorry, Dean," Castiel apologized, feeling awful now.

"Nah, no, it's no problem, Cas," Dean insisted. "No problem. Uh, do you need a ride to Jo's house after school?" He asked.

"No, I will be riding Jo's bus," Castiel replied, playing with his pencil distractedly.

"Oh, okay," Dean responded. It was silent for a few seconds. "Guess we won't really be seein' much of each other, huh?" Dean asked in a light tone of voice, but Castiel could sense the disappointment hidden underneath. "Y'know, since we're both gonna be workin', now," Dean added to clarify himself.

Castiel bit his lip. "That's not true. We have three classes together, and homeroom. And, well, we still have car rides in the morning? Unless you've decided you hate me, now," Castiel joked, but he still felt a twinge of panic.

Dean chuckled at that. "Nah, Cas, I don't hate you. Y'know, I could just visit you at work, some days. That way I can see Jo and Ash, too. I could bring Charlie and Chuck and Adam and we can all hang out like normal."

Castiel smiled, a fluttering feeling in his chest. "I'd like that a lot," he replied truthfully.

It was silent, but this time the air was lighter. Castiel could almost picture Dean smiling on the other end. "Man, I can't _wait _to order you around and have you serve me," Dean joked, earning a laugh from Castiel.

"Careful, Dean, or I might do something to your food," Castiel warned with a smile.

"Psht, y'know you wouldn't," Dean countered.

"Don't test me," Castiel challenged back.

Dean responded with a laugh, giving in. "Alright, alright, I believe you. So have you really got this job?" Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged, even though he knew Dean couldn't see him. "I'm not very sure. I suppose it'll be confirmed, tomorrow," he admitted.

"I'm sure you've got it," Dean replied. "Ellen's in love with ya," he added.

Castiel smiled. Ellen has been sort of like a motherly figure towards Castiel, recently. Every time he's at Jo's house Ellen will always give him some sort of extra treatment. Like, for example, if everyone's eating dinner at her place, she'll always pour Castiel a little extra food. Also, she'd always smile at him and direct conversations towards him whenever they're in the same room. It was the motherly attention that Castiel always sort of craved, and he happily accepted it.

Castiel found that he really liked Ellen, and that he was more excited than he originally thought at the idea of working for her.

"Yes, Ellen has been very kind to me," Castiel agreed.

"Yeah… well, hey, are you sure you don't wanna come over, today?" Dean asked hopefully. Castiel looked at his alarm clock. It was seven.

"It's getting late, Dean," Castiel replied.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, yeah, alright. Well, I'll see you in the morning, then. Good luck on your math," Dean spoke.

Castiel smiled. "Goodnight, Dean. Finish your chemistry homework," he ordered.

"_Yes, sir_," Dean replied before hanging up.

So Castiel put his phone away and worked on deciphering the equations that danced around his textbook, tauntingly reminding him of his test that was soon to come.

* * *

It was very early when Castiel woke up in the morning, so he showered for 30 minutes straight, smiling in the warmth the water provided him, too stubborn to go back out into the cold air of his bedroom. When he finished bathing, he grabbed a towel and dried himself, wrapping it around his waist while he searched his closet for some suitable clothes. He settled with a pair of jeans and a deep blue button up shirt, slipping on a black cardigan and his navy blue jacket over that. He brushed his teeth and put in his contacts, brushing his hair and trying to tame it somewhat. He really needed that trim.

It was still early, so Castiel decided to pack himself a lunch before he headed out.

Ever since his father began letting Castiel eat again, the dark-haired teen began packing his own lunches for school. It took one more thing off of Dean's list of things he does for Cas, and that fact alone made Castiel feel so much better.

That was part of the reason Castiel was getting a job in the first place. He wanted to pay back Dean for everything he did, and he wanted to be able to buy his own things and not have to depend on anyone for anything. Heck, maybe he'd even be able to get his license and a car later on down the road.

Christmas was coming, soon, and Castiel wondered day after day what he should get for Dean. It had to be something amazing- something to thank Dean for everything he's done for him.

But Castiel just couldn't think of anything. He knew Dean's most prized possessions were his music, his car, and Sammy. That's basically it. He likes classic movies and licorice wheels and pie, but all those things aren't really stuff that Cas could just get him. In all honesty, Castiel just thought those would make awful presents.

As cheesy as it sounds, Cas wanted his gift to mean something to Dean. He wanted it to hold more value than it seems to have. Castiel wasn't very great at making things, so that was out of the question… what could he make that Dean would actually want to keep?

Sighing, Castiel placed his bagged lunch in his backpack right as he heard the rumble of the Impala pulling into his driveway.

He supposed he'd have to keep thinking.

* * *

When Castiel climbs into the car, Dean has to blink twice at his friend and force himself to look at the steering wheel to stop himself from staring.

Cas's fucking button up.

The top two buttons were undone, exposing the smooth promise of skin that laid underneath. Not to mention, the color of his shirt basically made his eyes pop, shining amazingly bright with every shade of blue imaginable. It was the most alluring thing Dean had ever seen in those freaking oceans held within Castiel's gaze.

Shit, if Cas had added glasses to his outfit nothing would've stopped Dean from pouncing onto the dark-haired teenager and claiming him as his own.

Well, nothing except the fact that Sam was sitting in the backseat.

"_Dean_," Sam's voice called. Dean blinked back to Earth, looking in the rearview mirror. "Are we going or not?" His little brother asked.

Dean glanced at Cas, whose eyebrows were furrowed, eyes squinted and head tilted in his signature confused expression.

"Uh, yeah, sorry," Dean replied, pulling out of the driveway and making his way to Sammy's school. The drive was quiet, just the soft hum of music playing in the background. After they had dropped off Sammy, Cas spoke.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Castiel asked.

Dean had almost jumped at Castiel's gravelly voice, not expecting him to speak. He looked at his friend, his heart pumping so loud that Dean turned up the music slightly when he was afraid Castiel would hear it. _Yeah, I'd be fucking alright if you would stop fucking unintentionally seducing me with your goddamn blue button up._

"Yeah, I'm good," Dean replied, driving into the school parking lot.

Castiel seemed hesitant. "Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yeah, man, I'm just tired," Dean replied, giving his friend a smile. "Stayed up all night doing chem homework," Dean explained. That part was true, but it had nothing to do with Dean's behavior.

Castiel grinned. "At least you got it done," he spoke, making Dean smirk.

"Yeah, it wasn't worth the three hours that I could've spent sleeping," Dean replied as they parked, climbing out of the car. "Hey," Dean began as they walked side-by-side to homeroom, "I could pick you up from Jo's house, later on," Dean offered, nonchalantly letting their shoulders brush slightly before he put a little space between them.

Castiel smiled, and the simple gesture made Dean's heart flutter. "That would be great, actually. Thanks," he replied.

"No problem, Cas," Dean replied. "You busy this Sunday? We still gotta finish up our project," he explained.

Castiel smiled. "I'm sure we can meet up before that," he insisted. We'll move around your work schedule, and then on Sunday we can finalize the project," Castiel planned as they sat in their seats in homeroom.

Dean smiled. "Well, if you don't mind staying up late then we can definitely work on it after school," Dean answered. His work at the auto shop normally ended around seven or eight on weekdays. During Saturdays he worked from two until ten at night and on Fridays he worked till eleven, past closing time to repair some cars after hours. Apparently it would be paying well, so Dean didn't mind having his Fridays taken away from him.

Hell, the more time Dean spent being distracted from his huge man-crush on Castiel, the better.

* * *

When they got to first period, Dean and Cas were paired with other students into a group for a classwork analytical activity of a certain script from the book they were currently reading, _Beowulf. _Their group consisted of two girls, Meredith and Grace, and themselves. The two ladies seemed enthralled to work with Dean- but not so much with Cas.

Castiel had to hide his smile when Dean would avert his conversations to Cas instead of the girls that were basically drooling at Dean's feet. He would give Castiel his full undivided attention, asking him what he thought about a certain question when the girls would direct all their questions towards Dean. Castiel would say the answer and explain it- since that was what this assignment was for- and the girls would murmur agreements, not looking into Castiel's eyes as they scrawled answers down onto their group sheet. Whenever Castiel spoke, Dean would smile at him brightly- as if Castiel were an angel of the lord- and the dark-haired boy wished he had a camera because the faces the girls were pulling in front of him were priceless. Dean would just give the pair polite smiles when they spoke to him and attempted at flirting, but he wouldn't give them anything more. By the end of the assignment they were working on, the two ladies were positively fuming with frustration.

When they were wrapping up their conclusions, Dean caught a nasty look that Grace was giving Castiel- one that Cas was trying to ignore.

"Is there a problem?" Dean asked, and the blond looked over at him, eyes wide. She recovered, replacing her surprised look with a scowl.

"Well, to be completely honest, why the hell are you hanging out with…" she didn't seem to want to utter Castiel's name, flicking a manicured hand in Castiel's direction. "Like, are you serious? What's so great about him and not everyone else at this school?" She asked, eyes angry now. It seemed as though she had been aching to ask this question, and nothing was holding her back, now. "You treat everyone else at this school like they're fucking unworthy and then you go around acting as though people like _him_ are better company than us," she continued. "We never did anything wrong to you, Dean. Alastair was nice to you, and then you turned on him and tried to make him into some sort of a joke," she exclaimed, angry. Meredith was staring down Dean, as well, eyes set on the blond boy with a snakelike gaze

Castiel's heart basically stopped in his chest at her statement. She was right. He had been wondering that ever since the first day Dean talked to him.

What made him better?

What made a person as amazing as Dean want to associate himself with the likes of Castiel?

It just didn't make sense. Dean had everything handed to him the moment he got here- and he just threw it all away. And for what? For Castiel? What did he want to gain out of this? What was the point? Why work so hard at something so worthless?

Castiel looked down at the table, his ears burning with embarrassment and self-consciousness.

Dean didn't answer her question. Instead, he directed one back at her. "Tell me, Grace. What makes you all think you're so much better than Castiel?" Dean asked coolly.

Meredith rolled her eyes. Grace snorted. "Honestly, Dean. Do you really need me to say it? Come on, let's not embarrass the poor thing," she said with a smile, glancing at Castiel with a raised eyebrow. Castiel fought off the blush he felt trying to sneak its way into his cheeks. He didn't want to satisfy her. Picking up his pencil, he doodled mindlessly in the margin of his notebook paper, trying to ignore his pounding heart.

Dean tensed beside Castiel, but he recovered quickly, leaning forward on his desk as he gave a smile that would have any girl swooning. "Sweetheart, if you think that I'd prefer your company over Castiel's then you've got some seriously messed up ideas goin' on in that pretty little head of yours," Dean replied calmly, keeping his smile all the while. When Grace's jaw dropped and when she didn't respond, Dean raised an eyebrow, pointing down to their group packet where the blond girl was writing her name- pencil frozen in place. "You done with that?" He asked, taking the paper and walking over to Ms. Madison's desk where he returned it.

The two girls were still bug-eyed when Dean came back and nudged at Castiel's shoulder, telling him that they could move their chairs back, now. Castiel nodded, getting up on wobbly legs as he began to drag his desk back to its proper place.

Dean gave the two girls another charming smile. "Nice working with you, ladies," he called out as he picked up his own desk, placing it back in its spot next to Castiel's.

Castiel was sitting at his desk, feeling dread sink its way into his stomach. Despite their complete and utter rudeness, Grace and Meredith were right.

Alastair _had _been nice to Dean. He had basically given him the VIP spot in his clique. Dean had a free pass guaranteeing smooth sailing throughout his time at Lawrence High. He could have been with pretty girls and popular guys and he could have gone to parties and had fun instead of hanging out with Castiel working on a project about Lord Alfred Tennyson on Friday nights. He could be living the perfect high school life.

Why did he give up all that for Castiel?

Why did he sacrifice anything for him?

Castiel wasn't worth it.

"Cas?" Dean's voice inquired, cutting Castiel off from his thoughts. Castiel glanced at Dean, and the green-eyed boy gave him a smile. "You alright?" He asked.

Castiel nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Ms. Madison began speaking to the class, bless her soul, so Dean didn't try and push an answer out of his friend. When class was over, Dean tried to cheer up Castiel as he walked him to trigonometry, but the dark-haired boy was too focused on Grace's words to pay any attention to the conversations Dean would strike up.

Finally, when they reached the door to Castiel's classroom, Dean grabbed his arm before he could go inside.

"Cas, wait," Dean stopped him, pulling him close and away from the attention of the students filing into the classroom. "Cas, look at me," Dean ordered, meeting Castiel's eyes. "You don't believe what Grace said, right?" He asked, eyebrows drawn together and gaze intense.

Castiel opened his mouth, about to speak. But he had no idea what to say. He licked his lips and looked down before he looked back up, again. "She makes a good point, Dean," Castiel admitted.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Cas, it's complete bull. She has no idea what she's-"

The warning bell rang, and Dean's hand loosened on Castiel's arm.

"You need to get to class," Castiel interrupted, giving Dean a forced smile. "I'll see you at lunch, okay?" He reassured. Dean seemed to relax at that, and he nodded.

"Alright. I'll meet up with you here," he told him before heading off.

And Castiel went into his classroom, forcing himself not to let his anxiety climb up his throat and make its way out as screams.

* * *

When Dean met up with Castiel after class, their previous discussion was mostly forgotten. Castiel put on a happy attitude, forcing himself not to ruin Dean's day with his frantic thoughts. Dean seemed hesitant and awkward around his friend, but he tried to act happy, too, deciding to put away the whole speech he had planned to the back of his mind for later use.

Charlie and Jo basically took Castiel away from Dean for the duration of lunch, Jo talking animatedly about how Ellen was already planning Castiel's work hours and Charlie telling Castiel that her friend Gilda said she could cut his hair on Saturday before he starts work. Their enthusiastic mood lightened up Castiel from his bad day, and before Dean knew it he was back to his normal self.

That had brought a pang of jealousy within him. How come when Dean tried to distract Castiel and make him happy it didn't work? But then when Charlie and Jo did it worked like a charm? Dean wished he had that capability, but then again he had never been the comforting sort.

Cas and Dean talked about music as they ran during gym, Castiel asking Dean what albums he owned. Dean found the question to be odd, and he told his friend that he only owned a mixed array of cassette tapes- no physical records or albums. That seemed to make Castiel smile, and the dark-haired teen wouldn't tell Dean why even through his toughest persistence.

When they said their goodbyes after gym, Dean told Cas to text him when he was done at Jo's house. Castiel had nodded with a smile, and they headed off to their respective classes.

* * *

"Sorry about the crappy bus," Jo apologized as they squeezed into a seat, Castiel sitting on the outer part while Jo sat next to the window.

Castiel smiled. "It's no problem, Jo," he insisted. "It's much better than my bus," he observed. None of the people that bullied Castiel were on Jo's bus. He almost wished that his own bus was like this, but that was before he remembered that if it was he wouldn't get to see Dean every morning and afternoon. His thoughts about his bus quickly withered away after that, and Jo talked animatedly about the diner.

"It's located actually not too far from the school," Jo explained. "It's in that little plaza where all those frozen yogurt shops and bakeries are," she told him. "It's called the Harvelle Diner. My mom and dad both owned it, and when my dad passed away my mom continued to run it. I'm basically meant to keep it running when I'm older, too," Jo said with a nose wrinkle. "Family businesses, I guess. But anyways, my mom does the cooking. Ash, Meg and I do the waiting- Meg doesn't go to our school, she goes to Free State over by Overland Drive. She's really sweet, you'll like her," Jo explained. "So I basically work at the diner every day- I just take breaks when my mom tells me it isn't too busy. Ash works Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays through Saturdays. Meg works Fridays through Sundays, and sometimes on Tuesdays- it normally depends on the rush of customers and whether or not I can make it," Jo explained.

Castiel nodded, taking in all this information with wide eyes. It sounded as though they worked a lot of days, and Castiel was glad that he'd be kept extra busy. He pondered through Dean's workdays in his head, wondering if he could work on those days as well so that they'd have the same free days.

When they pulled up to Jo's neighborhood the two friends walked to her house, chatting on the way there. Jo unlocked the front door and they were greeted with the scent of cooking meat.

Castiel's stomach automatically clenched in need for food, and when he and Jo walked in Ellen called for them to come to the kitchen.

They left their backpacks by the front door and made their way to Ellen. She smiled brightly at the two when they approached her. Ellen was at the stove flipping meat patties, a bag of hamburger buns sitting by the stove along with some vegetables that waited to be cut.

"Hey, kids," she greeted. "You two think you can handle cutting those and settin' up the table?" She asked as she gestured her spatula towards the veggies. "I meant to have it all done before ya'll came home, but-" she shrugged.

Castiel smiled. "I can do it," he offered, grabbing a cutting board and knife from where Ellen told him it was. Jo worked on preparing the table while Castiel cut up onions, tomatoes, and lettuce- trying to do it in the expert way Dean had. He was catching on, and in a couple of minutes he had a stack of fresh vegetables ready for the dinner table.

Pretty soon everything was prepared, and Castiel was having dinner with the Harvelle family. They all talked about school and plans for the break- Castiel had told Ellen he was staying home for winter break, something that pleased her.

"Well then, that means you can work more at the diner," Ellen countered with a smile. Castiel laughed, nodding and agreeing. Then they began to discuss his working hours. "So I could use you any day of the week," Ellen began. "Wednesdays would be best," she added. "It's always busy on Wednesdays and usually it's just Ash workin' then. Jo has her classes at the karate center on Wednesdays," Ellen explained.

Castiel raised an eyebrow at the information, looking at his friend. "I didn't know you do karate," Castiel stated, rather shocked with himself that he hadn't noticed. He had seen Jo wrestle down Dean one Saturday night, pinning him to the ground.

Jo blushed- something she did not often do- and she shrugged, smiling slightly. "I teach self defense classes on Wednesdays," Jo explained. "I've already mastered a black belt… twice," Jo explained. "The first one was when I was like, five. So it doesn't count. When I finished karate I decided to teach some self defense classes at the center I used to go to," the blond girl told Castiel with a smile. "They're free- you should come," she offered.

Castiel smiled. "Yeah-sure, as long as you do not attempt to pin me to the ground in public," Castiel said with a knowing smirk, referring to Jo nonchalantly flipping Dean onto the ground and having him call uncle. Jo snorted, placing a hand over her mouth as she smiled beneath her hand, trying to control her laughter.

Ellen raised an eyebrow. "Anyways," she began. "What do you think, Cas?" She asked. "What days work best for you?"

Castiel thought back to Dean's schedule. If he could work on the same days as Dean then the days they have off could be the same and they wouldn't have to see that much less of each other. "I could work Wednesdays through Saturdays," Castiel offered. He noticed Jo lift her head up and look at Castiel curiously- if not with a bit of amusement on her expression. "And, of course, any other days you'd need my assistance. I'm not very busy after school," Castiel explained quickly, trying to look anywhere but at Jo.

Ellen smiled. "Wednesdays through Saturdays it is, then. And I'm gonna be expecting you full time during the break," Ellen said, pointing a finger at Castiel. "You can start this Saturday at twelve," she told him with a smile.

Castiel returned the smile, his face bright. "I'll be ready."

* * *

When it was eight, Dean picked up Castiel from Ellen's. They talked about Dean's first day on the drive back to Cas's house. Dean had been called by Rufus, who asked him to come in last minute since one of his workers called in sick for their shift. Dean had texted Castiel letting him know, and Ellen was more than happy to keep Castiel for the afternoon. Jo and Cas worked on their homework after dinner- Jo helping Cas study for his trig test.

Dean talked about how much work he had to do on repairing this old, completely beaten down '93 Volvo. Dean talked about how a man had brought it in asking if the shop could get it in perfect condition before Christmas. It was apparently a present for the man's daughter. Of course, Dean had said he'd get it done. But he expressed his negative thoughts about the whole thing to Castiel, telling him that he wasn't sure he'd finish it on time. He explained how long it would take, and Castiel had encouraged Dean, telling him he'd probably have it done in no time- saying that if anyone were capable of the job it would be Dean. That statement had warmed up Dean slightly, but he just rolled his eyes and said "whatever". In all honesty, though, Dean felt a whole lot more confident.

Dean had Cas tell him about all that went down at Ellen's, and Castiel told Dean he'd be starting on Saturday, and that Jo would give him his work uniform on Saturday morning. Dean offered to take Cas there and be his 'moral support' for Castiel's first day, and that seemed to excite the dark-haired teenager. Castiel had agreed, saying he'd really like having Dean there. So they talked more about Castiel's newfound schedule, and when Castiel told Dean his work hours Dean could've sworn his heart stopped.

Had Castiel planned to have the same work hours as Dean?

Did he do it so they could have time to hang out?

Had he already memorized Dean's working schedule?

No. No, of course not. Ellen had given him those work hours- it had nothing to do with Dean. It was just a crazy coincidence. Right?

God- Dean was not doing this, again. He had promised himself while he was at the auto shop that he'd try and get over Cas- that he'd try to clear his mind of him. Dean had texted John telling him about his job, and he had been _so proud _of Dean. He had called him right away, talking about how grown up his son was and about how he was becoming a great young man.

Dean's talk with his father was what had gotten him back on track- flirting with a girl that had stopped by the shop. He had gotten her number, and they were going to go on a date on Sunday. Dean Winchester was back on a roll, and nothing was going to throw him off of his routine, now.

Not even those goddamn pair of big blue eyes and that fucking button up.

* * *

**Sorry you guys had to wait so long for a crappy filler-chapter. I've got so much planned for this story, and right now we're in the slowest part :(  
**

**the good news though is that this story will be long! (good news for you guys, not as much for me) so there's still plenty of chapters to come! Like, right about now you guys have just finished the beginning of the story. Now you guys are starting the slow climb up the middle. It's gonna be slow, but work with me! I'll try and make it entertaining for y'all.**

**I hope you guys had a great weekend! Sorry for the wait**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	17. Can I Stay?

Castiel had been acting strange for the rest of the week.

Dean noticed it- those preoccupied looks on Cas's face when he thought Dean wasn't looking, the completely "i'm-so-not-here" expressions that engulfed Castiel's face during class, the way he was running slower during gym and not even paying attention when Dean would kick a soccer ball towards him. Castiel had even begun to talk to Dean less, answering him with "mhms" and other grunts of acknowledgement. At first, Dean had thought he had done something wrong. But then he realized he was overreacting and that there was nothing Castiel could be mad at him about.

He was just… not here.

To put it simply, that is.

Sure, he was still doing homework and attending lunch and attempting to listen politely to conversations around him, but he was doing it all almost robotically.

On Wednesday, he almost completely ignored Dean and the others.

On Thursday, he had run into Dean by accident a couple of times, murmuring apologies and then continuing on with his mindless routine as he pretended to listen to things Dean would tell him.

Dean knew he wasn't paying attention, because when he noticed that glazed over look consume Castiel's face for the umpteenth time while Dean talked, he'd change his topic of conversation from Tennyson to an alien abduction he went through, where he proceeded to be poked and prodded in mind-scarring ways. Castiel hadn't reacted to the ridiculous story, and that's when Dean knew things were bad.

He didn't try and force Castiel to tell him anything, though. Later on when the group had expressed their concern, he told them not to get involved, either. They just needed to give Cas some time, and when he wanted to open up he'd open up.

And that's what he did on Friday.

As Cas and Dean were leaving the classroom, Ms. Madison had stopped the two, asking Castiel to come to her desk for a moment. Dean had hung around by the door as he waited close by- keeping an eye on his friend as he made his way to their teacher's desk. He was surprised Cas had even heard the literature teacher, but he guessed that Castiel was probably waiting for her to call him over. His shoulders had been particularly tense throughout class that day, and his gaze kept flicking over to Ms. Madison in nervous anticipation.

Not that Dean was watching him, or anything.

Ms. Madison was talking in a hushed whisper, and Dean had to strain his ears to pick up on her words. He didn't mean to be nosy, but, hell, it's been a couple of days since Castiel has fucking talked to him and Dean was curious.

"I visited your mother this morning, Castiel," Ms. Madison began. "I… Castiel, I think it's time you pay her a visit, as well," she whispered hesitantly.

Castiel was stiff in front of his teacher, his shoulders tense and his head bowed. "You know I can't do that. I just can't," he told her, looking up into her eyes knowingly.

They stared at each other for a while, and Ms. Madison looked over at Dean, catching him watching them.

His heart skipping a beat, Dean looked away quickly, a blush burning at his cheeks.

Her next words were quieter, almost nonexistent. Dean only caught the mumbled forms of the words "be safe." Castiel's gruff voice gave an indecipherable response.

Before he knew it, Castiel was at his side again. Dean looked at his friend, their eyes meeting.

"Let's go," Castiel murmured, walking out of the classroom and not looking to see if Dean followed.

Dean looked over at his teacher, and she met his gaze. She was standing up facing him, now, and she had the same look on her face that she had when she asked Dean to take care of Cas all those weeks ago. Dean nodded in understanding, and he went off to follow his friend.

* * *

When Dean met up with Castiel after second period, Castiel had looked directly into Dean's eyes, stopping them from their walk to the lunchroom.

"Do you think we could eat outside, Dean?" Castiel asked monotonously, his voice hollow.

Dean tilted his head in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. He was shocked at the odd request, and at the fact that Castiel had uttered a sentence to him. He nodded, nonetheless. "Uh- yeah, sure, Cas. Let's go grab the others-"

"No," Castiel interrupted, making Dean freeze in his movements. "Just us," he specified, making Dean's heart pound in his chest.

Swallowing, Dean nodded again. "Okay," he responded.

They made their way outside, and Dean shot Jo a quick text telling her they would not be able to make it to lunch today, and that he'd see her later. He turned off his phone after that so it wouldn't go off, and he tried to ignore the frantic thoughts that flitted through his mind as they walked to the bleachers of the track and field. Castiel was silent, and Dean trailed behind him just as quietly.

What if Castiel was mad at him? What if he told him he didn't want to be friends? What if this had something to do with his mother and Dean wouldn't know what to say and then Castiel would realize Dean's an awful friend? What if Castiel has bad news?

The suspense was killing him, and it took everything in Dean's willpower not to burst and ask Castiel what was up.

They sat down on the bleachers side-by-side, a respectable foot of space between them. It was silent for a few minutes, and Dean fought the urge to eat his lunch. He had been working late last night and skipped dinner, and he had slept in and missed breakfast, as well. His stomach clenched and he fought off its urge to growl.

When Castiel finally spoke, his voice seemed almost back to normal. Except it was broken, now- emotion returning to it.

"Today is the anniversary of my mother's death," Castiel murmured, loud enough for Dean to hear but still hushed. Dean froze in his spot, locking his gaze on his friend.

Dean was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, man," he responded, not sure what else to say.

Castiel smiled bitterly at the ground, averting his gaze back in front of him. He never met Dean's eyes, practically ignoring them. "I know I should feel bad. I know I should be mourning and crying and feeling like complete crap. But…" Castiel shrugged, his eyes sad as his smile fell. "I don't, Dean." He looked at his friend, now, eyes meeting with a mix of blue-green electricity that hummed through their strong gaze. "I don't feel sad. Not as much as I used to," Castiel told him. "I just… I want to be _sad_," Castiel admitted, looking back at the ground, the break in their gaze making Dean take let out the breath he realized he'd been holding. "I'm just waiting for this empty feeling to break and flood with this breakdown that has been looming over my head and… I need it, Dean. It's not natural for me to be this happy for this long," Castiel tried to explain. "I'm not used to it, and it just isn't what's supposed to happen to me. I need to be upset- I need something to go badly for me or I think I'll go insane," Castiel spoke faster, now, hands balled into fists as they rested on his knees. "I don't want everything to go smoothly, Dean. It hasn't for so long that it just feels like everything going on right now is too good to be true. I'm waiting for the backlash and it's driving me crazy and I feel anxious every second and I overthink things and I tried to hang onto what Grace said the other day and I tried to repeat her words in my mind over and over and over and over and I'm trying to dwell over that and call it my bump in the road but it's _not _and I need more and now I'm not even sad on the anniversary of my mother's death and- _Dean I need something to hurt me,_" Castiel rambled, his voice hitching and his shoulders tensing with the inevitable build up of his anxiety and stress. Dean just stared at his friend with wide eyes, speechless. Castiel didn't continue, so Dean took it as his cue to speak.

"Cas," he uttered after a moment, his breathing unsteady. He took a deep breath and looked away for a few seconds, trying to gather together what he wanted to say. Dean looked back at his friend, now, and spoke. "Things can change, Cas," Dean told him, watching as his friend's mouth tightened, his blue eyes looking at the ground. "Life ain't ever gonna stay the same. You gotta just go with it and let go of those nagging feelings. If life is giving you a break, then you know damn well that you deserve it. Maybe the suffering is done with and maybe all you need to do now is get used to it," Dean suggested. "At least, maybe for now. You need to stop telling yourself that you don't deserve this happiness and instead you need to embrace it. Hell, I know it's hard. I know what it's like just waiting for the bad things, but... Cas, if you spend all your life waiting for the fallout you'll never be able to truly enjoy the great things you've got going on. And, to be completely honest, when you look back you're going to wish you had."

Castiel was eerily silent, gazing at the floor and refusing to meet Dean's eyes.

"I can't," he whispered weakly, hands shaking on his knees as he unclenched them, now. "I can't change who I am, Dean. I know that no matter what everything I have will leave. I know that because I don't deserve it. I never get to keep any of the things- God, any of the people- that I love. They're all going to be taken away from me and soon they'll all leave and then I'll be alone again and then what, Dean?" Castiel asked, gazing frantically into Dean's eyes, now. "Jesus, I know everything is going fine right now. But instead of enjoying it I can't stop thinking about how long it'll be until it's all gone," Castiel admitted, looking so vulnerable and so truly scared that Dean felt his heart break.

So he said the only thing he was sure about.

"I ain't going anywhere," he assured his friend. "And I swear to you that's something you can count on."

Castiel's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open slightly. He recovered, though, and his gaze turned soft- still fixed onto his friend's face. Cold wind brushed past the two, the sound of a distant car hazily filling the air. It was bitterly cold outside, the sky painted with a sickening wash of grey and white. Winter had consumed all of Lawrence, bathing it in its deathly blanket. But, with all the ice of the wintertime, Castiel's blue eyes brought summer within Dean- warming him and comforting him even with the situation they were currently in. Eventually, Castiel smiled sadly.

"Thank you, Dean."

And Dean had smiled back, scooching close and slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders. Castiel's warmth added to the feeling of summer and drove away the bitterness of the air- melting it into nonexistence and replacing it with life.

"No problem," he murmured back.

* * *

When school ended, Dean made sure to seek out Cas instead of waiting for him at the Impala. He had been worried since their unnerving conversation during lunch, and he wanted to make sure he got Castiel home from school safely. After scavenging the halls, he found Castiel walking to the parking lot with Jo and took him off her hands, giving the blond a smile and telling her they'd see her tomorrow.

Jo had bid them farewell, telling Dean in a low whisper to text him with updates on Cas. Dean had promised he would, and he took his friend to the Impala, keeping a hand on his back as he led him through the hustle of students in the hallway.

Even after their talk, Castiel seemed even more robotic than before. He was basically a dead body being dragged around by a machine, at this point. Castiel seemed pale, and the bags under his eyes were prominent. Dean wondered to himself when the last time Castiel ate was- or even slept, for that matter. The teen was bumping into people around him, stumbling around clumsily as Dean directed him to the parking lot.

When they got in the car and drove to Sammy's school, Castiel spoke up.

"Dean," he inquired, grabbing the blond boy's attention right away and slightly jolting him with shock.

"Yeah, Cas?" He asked, glancing at his friend.

Castiel was silent for a moment. "I do not want to go to my house," he admitted- his voice sounding small and scared. "Can I stay?" He asked, referring to Dean's house.

Dean nodded fast, pulling into Sammy's school. "Yeah- of course, man. Don't worry about it. Bobby's gone so you've got the guest room and everything," Dean reassured.

Castiel nodded, murmuring a thank-you. When Sammy got into the car, the three drove home. Dean had work, so when Castiel had walked into the house he stopped Sammy and talked to him, checking to make sure Castiel wasn't listening, first.

"Sam, I need you to keep an eye on Cas, alright?" He instructed, hand on his brother's shoulder.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "Why? Is something wrong? Is he okay?" Sam asked suddenly, looking into the house where Castiel was sitting in the living room.

Dean pressed his lips together, licking them before he spoke. "He's just a little off- I just want you to watch him until I'm back, okay?"

Sam nodded, not asking any further questions. "Okay."

"Alright. I'll be home, soon. You know the rules. Keep the door locked-"

"I know, I know. I'm not five, Dean. I know how to take care of myself," Sam interrupted with a roll of his eyes. "Just get out of here or you'll be late. C'mon," he urged.

"Thanks, Sam," Dean murmured with a smile, tossing his backpack into the house and then calling after Cas. "I'm headin' to work, Cas," he told his friend. "I'll be back around eleven, okay?"

Castiel looked over at his friend, giving him a forced smile and nodding. "Alright," he responded.

So after giving Sam a pat on the back, Dean eased himself back out of the house, rushing to work and munching on his uneaten lunch on the drive there.

* * *

It was only seven o'clock, and Dean was already frantic. He checked his watch every ten minutes, hurrying to get home. It got to the point where he couldn't even focus on the Volvo, working slowly at it much to Rufus's distaste. When he realized what he was doing, though, Dean slapped some sense into himself and tried to focus on work. The last thing he needed was to get fired on his fourth day of work.

So Dean kept his mind busy, getting rid of the urge to check his phone as he focused on the task at hand. Sooner than he expected, night had come and everyone was leaving. Rufus left the keys for Dean to lock up at eleven, and Dean fought off the temptation to leave earlier than that.

Pretty soon, he was heading back home, locking up and texting Sam to check up on things. Sam had texted back right away, telling Dean that something was really wrong with Cas and that he needed to get home quick.

His heart skipping a beat, Dean sent Sam a quick text, telling him he's on his way. Dean made it to his car quickly, practically sprinting to it and the next thing he knew he had the Impala speeding through empty streets to get home as soon as possible.

He didn't even lock his car as he raced the front door of his house, unlocking it and opening it in record time. Sam was sitting at the dining table, watching the living room. He looked relieved when he saw his brother.

"What's wrong with Cas?" Sam asked in a whisper, his eyes bewildered. "He hasn't moved from that spot. I can't even talk to him- he barely answers," Sam told him. "I tried to get him to eat something but he won't," Sam explained.

Dean bit his lip and nodded. "I'll take care of it, Sammy. Go to bed, I need to talk to him," Dean told his little brother.

With a worried crease of his eyebrow, Sam let out a stubborn huff of breath and nodded. He headed off to his room, leaving behind Dean to freak out in the kitchen.

The blond teen took deep breaths, trying to prepare himself for what he might face in just a couple of moments. Castiel hasn't been himself- he could do or say anything right now. Dean knew things were really bad because Cas had freaking asked if he could stay the night, which meant he didn't want to go home. Something was seriously wrong, because it was normally Dean who invited Cas over. It was Castiel who insisted he was a burden and who would do freaking chores or tutor Sam or help Dean with his homework when he's here. Castiel never broke down like this- he never showed anything that's bothering him to anybody- especially not to Sam. Castiel just _doesn't let people see his emotions._ And now he was letting it all out and it was up to Dean to help him out.

Hell, that's a fucking scary responsibility.

So Dean walked into the living room, taking a deep breath before he sat next to Castiel on the couch. The dark-haired teen had his zombie-like facial expression- blue eyes dull and face pale. Dean swallowed back the lump in his throat before he spoke.

"You alright, Cas?" He asked, hesitantly. Castiel didn't respond. Working his lower lip between his teeth, Dean reached out a hand to Cas, about to jostle his shoulder and repeat his question before Castiel spoke.

"Make it stop," he murmured, his voice so broken and weak Dean didn't recognize it.

Dean's eyes widened. "What? Make what stop?" He asked, hanging onto any little bit of words Castiel spoke.

Castiel clutched onto his head, now, shaking it back and forth as he whimpered. "The _voices_," he hissed. "Just tell them to stop! Tell them they're wrong- it's not my fault," Castiel breathed out, getting up from the couch as he looked at Dean for the first time. His eyes suddenly filled with realization, and they widened at the sight of his friend. "No- no I can't be here, I have to go," Castiel suddenly spoke fast, backing up. "I'm sorry- I didn't," Castiel began but his voice broke off and he shook his head, making his way to the door before Dean got up and grasped his arm, stopping him.

"Cas! Cas, _stop,_" Dean ordered, pulling Cas towards him and holding both his arms. "Cas, just tell me what's wrong," Dean spoke softer this time, but with hidden force lacing his words.

Castiel shook his head, bowing it and squeezing his eyes shut. "Dean, _please_," he begged. "You don't want to see this- what's about to happen. I'll be okay, I-I just need to go home. Just, please, let me go," Castiel pleaded, refusing to meet Dean's eyes, his body starting to shake and his breathing erratic.

Dean kept his grip. "No," he responded, sitting them down. "Whatever the hell you've got bugging you, you've got to tell me," Dean spoke. "That's a requirement when you've got friends, Cas. No more of this 'taking things on your own' crap. Now _talk to me_," Dean ordered. He knew he'd have to be assertive when it comes to Cas, or else their friendship will always be in this stage- constantly balancing between secrecy and the need to reach out to one another.

Castiel looked up at Dean, his shoulders hunched and his hands shaking and his eyes flickering frantically over Dean's face- as if he were searching for any sign of Dean betraying him. He looked back down, clenching his hands to stop them from shaking. "It's my fault," he choked out, taking a deep breath to hold back a sob. "It's my fault she's dead."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed, his heart cold in his chest. "What are you talking about?" He asked. "How could it be your fault?"

Castiel shook his head again, tears streaming down his face, now, swallowing harshly. "I didn't mean for it to happen- I didn't know," he defended himself.

Dean put a hand on Castiel's shoulder, urging the teen to look into his eyes. Castiel looked up, his blue eyes pained and confused and scared. "Tell me what happened, Cas," Dean spoke calmer, now. "It's okay, just tell me what happened."

Castiel took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "A storm- it was storming and it was really bad and I got scared," Castiel began. "I-I asked my mom to come pick me up- I was at my church- I- and I was safe and she told me I'd be alright but I still asked," Castiel stuttered, his voice tight- on the brink of breaking down. "I still asked her to get me because I'm scared of storms and I just wanted her there and I just wanted to feel safe and I was _scared_," Castiel tried to explain. "I didn't _know-_ I swear I didn't know- I'm sorry, _I'm sorry, I'm sorry_," Castiel began crying again, holding onto his head as sobs racked out from him, shaking his shoulders.

Dean was shocked- his eyes wide. He knew what was happening- it was just like when he had found Castiel in the forest. He's going through a panic attack- he was going over the edge and Dean needed to stop him before he got worse. "_Cas_," Dean began, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder as he tried to gain his attention. "Cas, it's okay. It's okay, it's not your fault," Dean reassured. "C'mon, Cas. Everything's okay, I need you to tell me what happened," Dean urged him. He knew that if Castiel didn't tell Dean everything that he'd continue to blame himself for it- even if it turned out not being Castiel's fault at all. Cas needed someone to share this burden- it was too much for him to handle on his own.

He needed Dean now more than ever.

Dean felt Castiel's shaking calm gradually under his hand and he felt the rise and fall of Castiel's back as he took another deep, shaky breath. "T-the car crash," he explained, loosening his hands on his head. "She got into a crash- she," Castiel's voice broke, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "They couldn't save her- couldn't save either of them. It's all my fault," Castiel whimpered, tears sliding down his cheeks as his breathing became laborious, escaping from his mouth with sobs.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "Either of them? Cas, what are you-"

"Azazel," Castiel spoke up. "Alastair's brother- they crashed into each other and they both died and it's all my fault," Castiel explained in a frantic rush. "It's my fault they're dead, Dean. And- _God_- I didn't want you to know! I wanted to keep it secret because if you and Jo and Charlie and- and _fuck_, I'm going to lose you all and I don't deserve you guys and I'm _so, so sorry_," Castiel was breathing erratically, his body shaking even more. Dean tightened his now-loose grip, squeezing Cas's shoulder reassuringly.

"Cas- _breathe_," he ordered, putting a hand on Castiel's cheek to lift his face up when he didn't listen. "Breathe, Cas," Dean commanded, green eyes staring intensely into blue, vulnerable ones.

When Castiel obeyed, taking shuddering, deep breaths that left him coughing, Dean found that he was subconsciously rubbing his thumb along Castiel's cheekbone as he cupped the side of his face. He almost stopped in his actions, but he didn't when he realized it was calming his friend.

"It's not your fault," Dean found himself murmuring, his other hand straying to Castiel's leg, placing itself firmly there- comforting and supportive. "It's not your fault, okay?" Dean told him, gazing fiercely into the teen's blue eyes. "There's no way you could've known, Cas. There's no fucking way you could have caused that to happen. It's _not _your fault. It was never your fault."

To Dean's complete shock, Castiel shook his head, pulling his face away from Dean's hand. "It _was_, Dean," Castiel argued, sounding completely broken. "Everyone knows it was, _everyone tells me it was_," Castiel whimpered. "Alastair, my father, they all told me it was my fault- and it _was_," Castiel told his friend, tears filling his eyes, again. "I was the one that called her- I told her to go out in that storm and _Dean_, if it weren't for me she'd be alive and happy and my father would be happy and _he wouldn't hate me, Dean. _Everything would be the way it was supposed to be an-and my family would be happy and-" Castiel broke off, his voice cracking before he hunched over again, clutching at his abdomen as he held back sobs in his tightened throat, clenched teeth grinding together to keep in the aching cries. "_I just want her back,_" Castiel managed to squeak, breaking down right then and there, letting the sobs take control as they spasmed Castiel's muscles- tossing him through painful shakes and shudders. "I want everything to be _normal. _I want A-Anna and Gabriel to come back home and I want my dad to love me and I want to _like _coming home from school and _Dean_, it's all my fault I screwed everything up and I screwed up my life and I screwed up my family's life and I screwed up Alastair's family's life and _oh my god,_" Castiel rambled before he sobbed, again, his efforts to hold back his cries useless as they racked out of him, spending his body with the force of their tears.

Dean didn't know what to do. He was sitting there, frozen, his hand still placed on Castiel's leg although it was a lot less comforting, now- stiff and cold on Castiel's thigh.

Before Dean could manage to do anything, Castiel was speaking again.

"I almost allowed myself to be happy," Castiel squeaked, his eyes reddened and his face wet with tears. "I almost thought that I could go through this year without being sad on this day- now that I have friends and now that things were going a- a little better. Dean, _I am the reason she died. _How could I _do that? _How could I go pretending everything's okay and allowing myself to be happy when my mother is dead because of me? It's _all my fault. _I don't deserve to be happy- I _don't deserve to be breathing_," Castiel cried. "She should be alive- I should be dead, _I shouldn't be here-_"

"Don't say that," Dean cut him off, hand squeezing on Castiel's leg as the other one gripped his arm. Dean's heart was pounding at the words Castiel had spoken. He couldn't believe what he had heard- he wanted to pretend Castiel hadn't uttered it. "Don't you dare say that," Dean gasped out, astounded.

Castiel was searching his friend's eyes wildly, blue orbs flickering over Dean's face. Tears kept pouring out of the pools of his eyes when he murmured, "Then why am I alive?"

Dean's jaw had dropped at that, and as he tried to answer, he found that he was too shocked with the honest confusion of that question to come up with anything. So, instead, he gathered himself together and put his arms around his friend, dragging him in close for an awkward hug that was all oddly tangled limbs and intense need. Dean held him tight, propping his chin on his friend's shoulder as Castiel relaxed and buried his damp face into Dean's neck, hiccuping with broken sobs.

"I don't know why this all happened to you, Cas," Dean admitted truthfully. "Hell, it sucks and I wish it didn't have to be like this. But _don't you dare _say that you wish you were dead. Fuck you, Cas, you fucking selfish bastard. Don't you _ever _fucking say that again," Dean murmured gruffly, pulling his friend in closer as he clenched onto him.

"I'm sorry," Castiel whispered into Dean' neck- his breath wet with tears and skin hot with fever from his exertion.

"Don't. Just- don't," Dean murmured, starting to rub slow circles in between Castiel's shoulder blades. "Just- enough with the apologies. It's not your fault, Cas. That's all bullshit, okay? What happened sucks, but it's _in no way at all _your fault," Dean reassured him, squeezing tighter as he let one hand stray up to grasp onto the back of Castiel's head- fisting his hair. His other hand continued rubbing circles as he soothed Castiel- coaxing him out of his sobs. "You're here for a reason, Cas," Dean whispered after a long silence, pulling his friend closer. "I swear to God- if I hear you say anything like that again I will kick your ass," Dean threatened, pulling away from his friend and grasping onto his shoulders as he looked into Castiel's eyes. "Your father told you it's your fault?" He asked, eyes stone cold and voice laced with venom.

Castiel nodded weakly- hesitantly. "Y-yes. B-but he's right? He _is _right, Dean. If it weren't for me-"

"Don't listen to him," Dean cut off with a hiss. "Don't listen to any of the shit that comes flying out of his mouth. It is _not _your fault, Cas. Hell, you were a little kid. You were a fucking kid and he shouldn't have put you through all of that. He should have helped you through it and let you know that you'd all get past this and- _damnit, Cas, _if anyone is to blame here then it's _him. _What kind of a shit father accuses his son of something like that? For fuck's sake- have you believed him all this time?" Dean asked, eyes pained as he searched his friend's face.

Castiel was shaking- his mouth slightly agape. He nodded slightly, his eyes on Dean's. "Yes," he whispered. "Dean- it's not his fault," Castiel defended when Dean's green eyes grew steely once more. "He was only-"

"He was being a crap father. You should have never have gone through that, Cas," Dean told him- voice shaking with anger. "Hell, it fucking sucks to lose a mom. It sucks ass because suddenly it's like you're ten years older and everything is taken away from you and for fuck's sake, your dad was supposed to help you through that but instead he chose to blame you for something that wasn't your fault. Do you know how messed up that is?" Dean asked, his voice rising. "When I lost my mom, my father helped me through it. I had Sam and my Dad and Bobby whenever he stopped by and it still didn't seem like enough. I still missed her and I blamed myself for the longest time before-" Dean broke off- his jaw clenching as he let go of Castiel's shoulders and ran a shaking hand through his hair. "That's not the point. Cas, you need to understand that this isn't your fault. Hell, I don't know what it'll fucking take to get you to understand that but I won't stop until you do. No more of this, Cas. No more blaming yourself and no more being sad and no more-" Dean broke off, again, eyes glassy. "_Shit, _Cas, don't ever fucking say that you wished you were dead. That's the stupidest, most fucking selfish thing I have ever heard a person say and I don't want to hear any of it- _got it?_" Dean asked, eyes intense.

Castiel swallowed, nodding- eyes wide. The teen had stopped crying- his eyes swollen and face tear-streaked. Dean suddenly got up, offering Cas a hand- which he took tentatively. When Castiel was on his wobbly feet, Dean put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Let's go to bed. You need sleep- you have to wake up early," Dean pointed out- his voice sounding borderline of exhausted.

Castiel nodded again, and let Dean lead him through the halls to his room. Castiel seemed to freeze when they entered Dean's room- his face slightly startled and his body rigid when he searched for the mattress on the floor. "De-"

But Dean was piling sleeping clothes into Castiel's arms. "Change into those," he ordered. "I've got an extra toothbrush- the red one under the sink. It's still in the wrapper, you can use that," Dean instructed as he stripped off his jacket and henley, pulling on a worn out Rolling Stones tee. Castiel eyes lingered on Dean as he stripped down, making the blond teen fight off a blush as he realized what he was doing, tucking down his old shirt self consciously.

"Dean," Castiel tried, again.

Dean turned around to face him, and suddenly grew red- embarrassed. "Ah- not to be weird or anything, Cas, but I'd rather you not be left alone tonight. You've kinda got me uneasy. Just- just stay where I can see ya, okay?" Dean asked, his voice pleading. Castiel licked his reddened lips, nodding as he looked at the floor.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel murmured, and Dean managed to crack a smile.

"No problem. C'mon, get dressed," he urged his friend, waving towards the bathroom in the hallway. Castiel nodded, heading off to the bathroom. When he came back he looked somewhat cleaner- his nose less red and dribbly and his face washed, although his eyes were still swollen. Dean tried not to ogle at the sight of Castiel in Dean's clothes- his white long-sleeve hanging loosely on Castiel's frame- the neck of it exposing collarbone and his plaid pj pants drooping dangerously low on Castiel's hips, the double-knotted tie doing nothing to keep them up properly. The thought of Dean's pants on Castiel shouldn't turn on Dean as much as it did, and he averted his eyes as he coughed awkwardly. Now was _definitely _not the time. "Well, uh, get in bed and stuff. I'm gonna brush my teeth," Dean told him gruffly as he padded off to the bathroom, taking a minute to get in some deep breaths and splash his face with water. Castiel needed him, tonight, Dean reminded himself as he furiously brushed his teeth. Now was no fucking moment to take advantage of him like this and pronounce his fucking giant gay attraction.

Fuck, now was _so_ not the time.

So Dean rinsed his mouth, spitting out water and trying to calm the heat in his stomach that swirled around at the thought of sleeping next to Castiel. Dean spent a good four minutes just hanging around in the bathroom as he tried to calm himself from the unexpected events of the past hour. Eventually, Dean decided to stop being a fucking pussy, and walked out of the bathroom as he made his way to his room. Castiel was on his side on the very edge of the bed, taking up as little space as possible.

Licking his lips, Dean turned off the lights, climbing over Cas to his side of the bed, lying awkwardly on his back and feeling the nagging sense that Castiel was too far away and that the bed suddenly seemed five fucking miles long.

"Jesus, Cas," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes when his friend looked over at him. "I'm not gonna bite you, come here," he told him, beckoning him closer with a wave of his hand. Castiel gawked for a moment, but nodded, scooching over closer to Dean and seeming to shiver under the sudden body heat Dean was sure he felt. Castiel was not even a full foot away from Dean under the sheets, and the blond boy could feel him itching to be closer, glancing at Dean every now and then as he subtly scooched a few small inches closer when he thought Dean wasn't paying attention.

Dean was definitely paying attention.

So, with a theatrical sigh, Dean rolled onto his side facing Cas, gently pushing Castiel so his back was facing him as Dean molded them together, putting an arm around Castiel and letting his hand settle on the skinny teen's belly.

Castiel seemed shocked, at first. And, hell, he had every right to be. They were basically spooning. But it surprisingly wasn't as erotic as Dean had hoped it wouldn't be. It was comforting- touching one another. It was as if they were reassuring each other that they were here to stay- that they wouldn't be left alone. And Dean knew it was exactly what Castiel needed at that moment.

Fuck, Dean wasn't a cuddler. Whenever his one night flings stayed over the night, Dean would make it clear that there would be no cuddling- staying on his side of the bed until morning came. Dean didn't like the intimate touch- it seemed too risque for him. It was scary to trust someone with holding you so gently and seeing the most vulnerable part of you. It wasn't the same as the intensity of sex. It was nowhere near the same.

With Cas, though, Dean felt like he could do this forever.

Dean could feel Castiel's back relax against his chest as he let out a content sigh when Dean's other arm slid underneath Castiel, basically pulling him in for a hug. Castiel even went as far as to put a hand over the one Dean placed on his stomach, giving it a light squeeze and leaving it there, fingers slightly intertwined with Dean's own.

Dean suddenly realized that Castiel really had been deprived of touch like this. He lived most of his childhood being ignored and denied by those closest to him. Castiel needed this really bad- a soft touch. He needed it to relax and calm down and it was the only way he could get the bad thoughts of the past few days to leave his mind.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel murmured, and Dean could hear the content smile in his voice- the sleepy haze slurring his words. It made him impossibly warm- made his heart flutter and speed up with the thought that _he was finally making Castiel happy. _Just like Jo and Charlie. Dean swallowed, trying not to shift away when he was afraid that Castiel could feel his heartbeat against his back.

Fuck it, what did it even matter?

So Dean only pulled his friend closer, thumb rubbing lazy circles on Castiel's belly and fingers digging Castiel's own further into the gaps between his, interlocking their hands tight.

"Mmm," Dean responded, drunk off of the safety and sleepiness he suddenly felt as he nestled his face into the curve of Castiel's shoulder, not-so-subtly breathing in Castiel's scent. It smelled like Dean, again- mixed with the clean swirl of Castiel's shampoo.

They fell asleep instantly.

* * *

When Castiel woke up with irritatedly swollen eyes, he realized he didn't have any nightmares.

That was the first time since his mother's death that he didn't have nightmares on the anniversary.

And it more or less had to do with the fact that he was now facing Dean, chest to chest, with Dean's arm draped sleepily around him- his face peaceful and pink lips puckered with sleep, eyelids shut blissfully closed and dotted with freckles.

Castiel took a moment to study Dean's face, his breath caught in his throat at the sheer natural beauty of it. He counted each and every one of those beautiful freckles and felt a dire need to kiss every last one. Dean's lips looked so inviting, as well. They were full and slightly parted and just begging to be kissed good morning.

Licking his lips, Castiel buried those thoughts. No. Dean was just comforting him after his breakdown. He was just being a good friend, that's all.

So Castiel kept that in mind as he cuddled closer, allowing himself to indulge in Dean's sweet scent as he buried his face in Dean's chest, pretending to fall back asleep when he felt the blond boy stir with wakefulness.

He heard Dean's breath hitch in his throat, and Castiel kept his eyes shut closed. He could feel Dean's arm stiffen around him for a moment, and Castiel felt horror seep into his veins at the idea that maybe Castiel took this too far.

But that fear slowly slipped away as Dean's arm relaxed, slithering off from around Castiel (he tried to suppress an unsatisfied groan of protest) and moving to Castiel's hair to brush some off his forehead.

Castiel fought back the blush creeping it's way up his neck, because that would completely fucking give him away. So he fake stirred sleepily, feeling Dean's fingers pause in his hair. When he resumed his peaceful state, Castiel felt Dean's fingers slowly brush down Castiel's cheek before removing themselves completely from him as the bed creaked underneath Dean with the movement of the teen sitting up. Castiel almost shivered with the sudden loss of body heat.

He could hear Dean groan with annoyance, and then the next thing he knew the blond boy was "waking up Castiel".

"Cas. Cas, c'mon. You gotta take a shower before your first day," Dean told him, jostling Castiel's shoulder. "C'mon, you smell gross," Dean commented, poking Castiel in the side and making him squirm.

"I do not," Castiel murmured, making a show out of pretending to be sleepy.

"Yeah, well, you still need to bathe. C'mon, I'll make you breakfast," Dean told him, yanking the covers off of Castiel and letting the crisp, cold air attack at Castiel's body heat.

"_Dean_," Castiel moaned irritatedly, and this time it didn't require much acting as Castiel sat up, glaring at his friend.

Dean gave him a bright smile, which had Castiel mildly flustered, blinking stupidly. "I'll make you some eggs and toast. And some tea?" He offered, giving Castiel a pat on the back as he got up and rifled through his drawers, tossing a blue plaid button-up to Cas. "I'm guessing you'll be wearing your jeans from yesterday, because we're obviously not the same size," Dean mumbled, gesturing to Castiel's very-loose pajama pants. Castiel flushed at the thought of Dean paying attention to all the fine details of Castiel's pants size, and he nodded, grabbing the black t-shirt and blue button up that were thrown at him.

"Alright, go shower. I'll get breakfast ready," Dean told him before leaving the room.

Castiel got the eerie feeling that Dean was purposefully trying to get him to wear Dean's clothing. And he honestly didn't mind.

* * *

When Charlie opened Jo's door with an enthusiastic "Cas! Dean!", followed by bone-crushing hugs, Castiel could already feel his worries of the previous days melting away.

He smiled as Charlie separated from him. "Hey, Charlie. I haven't seen you since yesterday," he joked, earning a laugh from Dean and a snort from the redhead in subject.

"Oh come inside, you smartmouth. It's _felt _like forever," she added defensively, but not without a smile. Then she observed Castiel, perking up an eyebrow. "Those aren't your clothes," she noted, glancing at Dean like a cat who found an interesting new toy- her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Castiel blushed furiously, and Dean- thank God- stepped in. "He stayed the night unexpectedly. 'Needed some clothes," Dean had added with a shrug and a smile.

Charlie smiled back, but that damned twinkle in her eye lingered. "Uh-huh," she spoke, just as a brown haired girl that could pass as a model came up behind Charlie, a smile on her face. Charlie seemed to notice her presence without even seeing her, and turned around to face the brunette, smiling and gesturing a hand from Castiel and Dean to the girl. "Gilda, this is Cas and Dean. Cas and Dean, this is Gilda. She's going to be cutting your hair, Cas," Charlie explained with a smile.

Gilda smiled brightly- all white teeth and charm- and reached out a hand to shake Castiel's and Dean's. "I'm so glad I finally get to meet you guys!" She exclaimed.

They both smiled back, Castiel responding, "Likewise. I apologize that our first encounter must engage with you cutting my God-awful hair." He looked sheepish, a smile on his face as Gilda laughed, running a hand over Castiel's hair.

"Nonsense! You've got gorgeous hair, sweetie! We just need to touch it up, is all," she commented with a dimpled smiled that had Castiel feeling warm and comfortable, already. Jo had come in behind Gilda, and she smiled at the boys as she gave them a wave. They returned the gesture, and suddenly Gilda was beckoning to Castiel. "You, come upstairs. Let's get your hair looking perfect," Gilda challenged, grabbing Castiel's hand and dragging them up the stairs into Jo's bathroom, commenting about how she was going to trim his hair all throughout their way up the stairs. Castiel had looked back at his friends with wide-eyes, meeting Charlie's thumbs up, Jo's snickers, and Dean's raised, uneasy eyebrow.

When they got to the bathroom, Gilda sat Castiel down on a chair. A rubber mat had been laid down underneath it, and Gilda draped a black smock over Castiel's front, buttoning it behind his neck.

"I know exactly what I'm going to do with your gorgeous locks," she mused as she ran fingers through Castiel's hair, spiking up the still slightly-damp tresses and removing it from his forehead (it tended to settle there recently since it was too long for Castiel to spike up with his fingers).

Castiel licked his lips, nodding. "Go right ahead- I trust you," Castiel said with a smile. Gillda made a happy sound and picked up some scissors, going in front of Castiel to observe his face, measuring it with her fingers, chocolate brown eyes sizing up the teen.

"You've got such pretty eyes!" She observed with a smile. "My goodness, there's like a hundred different shades of blue in there!" She commented, grasping some hair between her fingers and positioning it to her liking before making a small snip. Castiel didn't know what to say to the compliment, so he gave a small smile. "I'm going to keep your hair pretty long, but we're going to shorten it up a bit on the sides and the back. Just give it a good trim, and make sure you spike it up like this! Keep it out of those eyes," she ordered before giving a couple more snips, black hair falling with light thuds onto the smock draped over him. "Although it seems like you won't even need product for that, your hair has that kind of naturally messy look to it," she said with a smile.

Castiel squirmed his nose when he felt a loose hair tickle it. "I normally cut my own hair- it had grown so long recently that I was afraid to touch it. I thought I'd ruin it," he commented.

Gilda's face scrunched up with confusion. "Why would you cut your own hair? Don't you have a barber?" She asked.

Castiel shook his head no. "Not for a while, no," he commented.

Gilda bit her lip, deciding not to comment on that as she instead directed the conversation back to Castiel's hair style, snipping at different parts of his hair with practiced ease. After a while, she smiled at him. "That's already so much better! I can see more of your face, now. Wow, you're a looker," she commented, smiling happily at him as she continued to work at his hair. Some hair was sticking to Castiel's neck, prickling him and he fought the urge to brush it away. "The girls at school must be flocking around you, huh?" She asked with a friendly smile.

Castiel blushed, looking down and offering a small smile. "Er, uh, no- not exactly," he commented.

Gilda's eyebrows rose. "Darling, I find that hard to believe. Those girls must be insane," she declared before raising an eyebrow, a figurative lightbulb going off over her head as a thought seemed to come to her. But she only continued cutting Castiel's hair, smiling. "That blond guy down there was cute, huh?" She noted, observing the way Castiel went beet red.

"Dean? Uh-"

"He seemed to have those pretty green eyes of his all over you," Gilda commented, observing Castiel's shocked face with a smirk.

Castiel could feel himself getting flustered, mouth hanging open. "N-no, uh, Dean's just my friend. We're- uh, we're just friends," he managed to babble, heat slowly flooding his cheeks.

Gilda smiled kindly, but her eyes were teasing. "Is that why you're wearing his clothes?" She asked.

Castiel blinked. "How did you-"

"They're a bit big on you, and quite frankly they just don't seem like the type of clothes you'd normally own. They happened to almost match Dean's clothes, though," she observed. When Castiel's eyes widened, she giggled. "Oh, don't worry darling. I'm merely observant."

Castiel was burning with embarrassment. "Well, it's not what you think. I only stayed the night and needed some clothes," Castiel argued pathetically.

Gilda raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she said with a shrug, making Castiel's eyes widen.

"Okay?" He asked.

Her lips twitched. "Okay," she repeated.

Castiel's eyes squinted as he gazed at her, and she laughed. "Well, how about you and Charlie, then?" Castiel asked, making Gilda freeze and look at him with wide eyes.

"How did you-"

"I'm merely observant," Castiel mocked with a smug smile at his correct assumption.

Gilda twisted her mouth together, squinting her eyes back at Castiel. "Touche," she countered, giving him a smile.

"So?" He persisted, raising an eyebrow.

Gilda smiled. "Yes, you're right. But, hey, at least I'll admit it. Unlike you," she said, sticking out her tongue.

Castiel's eyes widened. "But there's nothing to ad-"

"Well, you could start with admitting that you like him," Gilda suggested. "It's painfully obvious, already. So you might as well."

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed. "You've only just met him! You've only just met _me!_ How could-"

"It's the way he looks at you, Castiel. You'd have to be blind not to see it," Gilda said with an eyeroll and smile. "And if the look he gave me when I dragged you up those stairs doesn't prove anything, I don't know what will," she added.

Castiel licked his lips, his throat dry. Before he could respond, though, Gilda stood back, eyeing Castiel's hair with a smile. "Perfect! Wait," snip, "there! Perfect!" She declared, unbuttoning the smock carefully as she grabbed a brush and dusted off the hair on Castiel's neck. "You look great!" She exclaimed, happy.

Castiel got up and looked in the mirror, a smile finding its way onto his face.

"It's great!" He exclaimed, smiling brightly at the brunette by his side. "Thanks- I owe you one," he commented, sincerity in his eyes.

Gilda rolled her eyes. "Any time, darling. You don't owe me anything," she insisted, ruffling some fingers through Castiel's hair as she smoothed the sides and spiked the longer parts to her liking. "You look so _cute!_" She exclaimed, practically bouncing. "Let's see that Dean try and resist you, now," she challenged with a smile, cupping Castiel's cheeks as he blushed.

"I told you, we-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Gilda told him with an eyeroll, flicking a dismissive hand. "Anyways, meet Jo in her room- she has your uniform," Gilda instructed.

Castiel agreed, and helped Gilda clean up before he retreated to Jo's room. She was there waiting for him.

"_Oh my God, Cas! _Your _hair!_ You look so much older!" Jo remarked, running over to pull Castiel into a hug which he laughed into, wrapping an arm around her.

"Thanks, Jo," he replied, smiling when they separated.

"Honestly, Cas! You look so different! You look more mature and older and I just love your hair shorter!" She insisted, nodding approvingly. "You look great!"

In all honesty, Castiel _felt _great. He had gone through this difficult week the smoothest he's ever had. Everybody was being too great to him- Jo offering him the job, Ellen insisting he didn't need to worry about the uniform, Charlie and Gilda offering to cut his hair, and Dean helping Castiel through his breakdown, not questioning him and taking everything Castiel had to say amazingly. This was all surreal, and Castiel could barely grasp onto all that was happening. He was going to start working, today! He was going to start earning money and seeing Jo and Ash more and he'll be able to feel like he's not useless anymore and everything was just taking a turn for the better. So Castiel shyly mumbled some more thanks to Jo, giving her a smile. Jo retreated to her bed, gathering up what appeared to be a black shirt and black apron.

"This is your uniform," Jo informed him, handing the clothes to Castiel. "We wear jeans, and it doesn't really matter what shade they are but we kind of tend to wear darker ones because they match with the shirt better and just look more professional," Jo told her friend.

Castiel nodded, taking in the information as he unfolded the shirt. His heart stopped when he saw that it was short-sleeved. Oh, God. He didn't even think about that.

"Uh- Jo," Castiel began. But he paused. He wasn't quite sure how to say it.

_I cut?_

_I have scars covering all of the skin of my arms._

_I'm an emo depressed psychopath that cuts himself._

Damnit, Castiel didn't even start his job yet and he was already going to lose it.

Jo's eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong, Cas?"

Castiel licked his lips. "Uh- well, uhm, it's short sleeved," he mumured.

Jo smiled. "Don't worry, the diner is kept warm and you can bring a jacket. We got a place for the employees to put their coats and other stuff," she assured him.

Castiel swallowed. "Uhm, it's not about the temperature. It's- ah, well," Castiel babbled. He stopped, took a deep breath, and looked Jo in the eyes. His heart was launched into his throat, and he felt dizzy on his feet. He needed to tell her. There was nothing else he could do and that realization had him wanting to run away as fast as he could. "I'm about to tell you something that nobody knows. And- uhm, well please don't take it badly, okay?"

Jo's eyes widened. "Cas, what-"

"I just need you to promise me you won't tell anyone," Castiel told her. "You have to swear. Not _anybody. _Not even Dean or- just nobody, okay?" Castiel asked, his voice shaking.

Oh, God. He was going to terrify her. She was going to run away screaming and she's going to call him a freak and they'll never talk, again.

"Of course," she responded in a whisper. "Nobody- got it. I won't tell," she assured.

Castiel licked his lips as he looked into Jo's eyes, searching them. "You're the only one that will know about this, Jo. And- uh, well I just wish I didn't have to show you," he murmured.

"What is-"

"Just- uh, look," Castiel told her, placing the uniform on a chair as he took a deep breath and held it in. When he quickly mustered up his courage, Castiel took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves to Dean's button-up. He heard Jo's sharp intake of breath, and he didn't dare look at her face, keeping his head bowed.

"Cas," she whispered, shocked.

Castiel bit his lip, fighting back the prickliness in the back of his eyes. He forced himself to look up at her, and her eyes were watering, gathering with tears. "I-I've stopped," he stuttered. "Really, I have. I am trying really hard and- well, I haven't in weeks. I promise you I haven't," he told her, his eyes begging her to believe him. Jo looked up at her friend, tears streaming down her face, now.

"I-I mean I knew about the anxiety f-from the forest and all that and," she cut herself off, biting on her lip. "Cas- I never thought- _God, _it never even occurred to me and I have no idea how I didn't realize," she spoke- her voice quivering as she swallowed harshly and wiped her tears furiously, not looking at Castiel, now.

"I'm sorry, Jo," Castiel spoke sincerely. "I really am, I swear. And I know that this complicates things and I'm really sorry and," Castiel took a deep breath when he began to feel sick, placing his hands on his arms as he tucked them against him. "I just- please don't be mad, okay? I- I don't want you guys to hate me so I didn't want you all to know and just… _please _don't tell anyone?" Castiel asked hopefully, searching Jo's frantic expression.

Jo's mouth dropped and she blinked, looking into Castiel's eyes. "Why the hell would I be mad at you?" She asked, furious with Castiel's assumption. "Of course I'm not mad, Cas! I- I'm just… when was the last time?" She asked, reaching out to Castiel's arms and prying his hands off of them, extending them back out as she studied the numerous amounts of scars, holding his arms gently in her hands. Some of the cuts were still pink and some faded. She traced her fingers over the uneven terrace of skin, tears gathering in her eyes as something like "my God" left her lips.

Castiel swallowed back the lump in his throat and found his voice. "Uh- uhm, the day after my birthday. Later that night," Castiel whispered. "I haven't since, I promise," Castiel reassured her. "I'm so sorry, Jo. I tried to hide it- I didn't want you to find out. At least, not like this. God, I'm really, really-"

"Cas," she stopped him, letting go of him gently. "Stop- just stop. Don't worry, you don't have to apologize, okay? I understand," she told him, taking off her button up (she was wearing a tank top, underneath) as she came close, showing her shoulder. "Look, see?" She told him, urging him to look at the skin that was covered with light scars, some short and some reaching from her shoulder blade to the indent of where her shoulder and neck met. Castiel's eyes widened. The scars were old and faded, almost gone. He wouldn't have noticed them if he hadn't had searched for them. But they still left their presence on her fair skin, symbolizing her dark past. "Me too," she whispered, covering back up and looking Castiel in the eyes, now.

Castiel's throat felt dry. "Jo- I… I had no idea," he breathed out. The strong, cheerful, independent blond girl he had come to know was the last person he'd expect to resort to cutting herself. "_Why?_" He couldn't help but ask.

Jo gave a sad smile. "You remember when I told you not to shut yourself away? How I told you to let people in?" When Castiel nodded, she continued. "Well, that's advice from personal experience, Cas," she admitted. "After my father died… I didn't take it well, I guess. I was really close to him, y'know? I shut myself away- I almost pushed away everyone- Adam, Chuck, Charlie, Ash, all of them. When they found out about the cutting, well, they got me to stop. It took a long time, but they did. Castiel, I know you don't want to tell them. And, trust me, I understand. But if you ever need some more support, we're all here for you, okay? _Always_," she reassured him.

Castiel nodded, face pale and skin cold. "Yes- I know," he told her. Jo looked at him for a long time, her facial expression unsure. So Castiel pulled her in for a hug. "I promise- I know, Jo. I'm sorry," he apologized. He was sorry for everything- for cutting, for Jo's father, for Jo's depression, for pushing people away. He didn't know how to express his apology enough. But Jo seemed to understand as she hugged Castiel tight, burying her face in his shoulder.

"It's okay, Cas. It's okay," she reassured. "Just don't lock yourself away. _I mean it_," she warned him.

Castiel nodded. "I won't. I won't, this time. I promise."

He could feel Jo smile against him. Then she froze in his grasp. She pulled away and looked into Castiel's eyes, her eyebrows furrowed. "Why do you smell like Dean?" She asked, then looked at Castiel's shirt. "That's Dean's," she noted, looking into Castiel's eyes with a smile. "Are you two-?"

"_No- _my God, _no,_" Castiel insisted, going beet red for the hundredth time that day. "Why does everyone- no, I just slept over unexpectedly. I didn't have a change of clothes," Castiel explained, crossing his arms when Jo laughed.

"Okay, okay! Geez, no need to get all defensive. Anyways, get changed. I have some cover up we can use for the scars," she told him. "It should work- our skin tone is pretty similar. I'll give it to you, I don't need it anymore. I used to use it for the same thing," Jo explained, retreating to the bathroom connected to her room. "I'll be right back! Get changed," she ordered for the second time.

So Castiel stripped off Dean's button up and Dean's black shirt, folding them neatly and placing them on a chair before he pulled on his uniform- a black t-shirt with the words "Harvelle's Diner" in white on the upper left of the front. The cotton was soft and nice, and the shirt was fairly loose on him. He hadn't worn just a t-shirt in a while, and the difference was strange. his arms felt too exposed, and he didn't like the look of them- all skinny and scarred.

Jo called Castiel over to the bathroom. He walked in to find her with two tubes of certain product in her hand.

"This one is scar removal," she told him, lifting up one of the tubes. "It's how I got mine to fade so much. You can have it," she told him, giving it to Castiel who thanked her and pocketed it. "This one is the cover up. It spreads well, so you won't need much at all. It comes off with water and soap, though, so don't go around scrubbing your arms, okay? Be careful with that," she warned him. "I'm gonna teach you how to use it today, alright?" She told him, patting down on the bathtub rim for Castiel to sit down next to her.

Within five minutes, the cuts were completely covered, Castiel's skin miraculously clear. He was smiling wide as he turned his arms around, looking at them this way and that. "I don't remember the last time they looked like this," he commented breathlessly. "It's so strange."

Jo smiled sadly as she washed her hands of the coverup. "I know what you mean. It looks good, though. Pretty believable," she commented.

Castiel smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Jo. It means a lot- honestly."

Jo waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Alright, you gotta tuck your shirt in," she told him. Go out into my room, I'm gonna change into my uniform in here. Get your apron on and I'll meet you out in a bit," she instructed.

Castiel nodded, leaving the bathroom and doing as Jo asked. Soon he had his shirt tucked in and his apron on around his waist. It wasn't the full body one, but the type that had all the pockets and went down to about mid-thigh. After much hassle, Castiel had it tied and placed properly. Jo came out of the bathroom a couple of minutes later, her hair tied up into a bun and her own uniform on. She had some things in her hands.

"Here's your nametag, and your notebook- you'll use it to write orders and stuff- do you have a pen? Oh, good. Okay, and there will be cheque collector-things at the diner, I'll show you how to use them," Jo rambled as she pinned on Castiel's nametag, patting his chest, lightly. "There! You're all set! Now, come on, the others are probably wondering where we are."

* * *

Dean was sitting in the living room with Charlie and Gilda, talking to the two. He almost felt stupid for being jealous of Gilda, earlier. How he hadn't noticed she and Charlie were a couple, he had no idea.

Geez, he needed to stop feeling jealous so easily. It's not like he and Castiel were together. Castiel didn't feel that way, and pretty soon he'll probably get a girlfriend- well, he's working as a waiter and sooner or later nobody will be able to ignore those goddamned blue eyes- and then Dean will just have to get over him. That will be the push. That will be what convinces Dean that this needed to end.

He had his own date on Sunday, still. Everything was fine. Everything will go back to normal.

But he couln't keep that thought in his mind as he kept checking his watch. Where the hell was Cas? Gilda came down, like, fifteen minutes ago. All Cas needed to do was get changed.

Dean's heart stopped when he realized that Jo was upstairs, too.

They… they wouldn't be…?

_Would they?_

No. Don't be ridiculous, Dean.

Jo knew how Dean felt. Hell, she asked him about it almost every single day since she found out back in Thanksgiving break. She wouldn't do that to him, right? Jo just wasn't that kind of a person.

But Dean had made it fairly clear that he wasn't intending to bring actions towards his feelings. Maybe Jo had accepted that and gone for Castiel, herself?

No. No, no, that's not what was happening.

_Then why are they taking so goddamned long_, Dean couldn't help but wonder.

"Wonder what's taking so long," Charlie voiced Dean's thoughts, her eyebrows furrowed. "It's been like, what, ten minutes?" She commented.

"Fifteen," Dean corrected, blushing when she looked his way with a raised eyebrow. "Ah- uh, I think," he murmured.

"That's strange," Gilda spoke. "Should we go check on them?" She asked, looking hesitantly at Dean. She was probably thinking the same thing he was.

"Nah, they'll be down in a second," he told her. "I mean, how long can it take?" He asked. He didn't want to believe what his mind was telling him.

And he almost exhaled a breath of relief when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Jo came into the living room first, a big smile on her face. "Ladies and gentle-uh, well- Dean," she began jokingly. "May I present the new and improved, Castiel!" She spoke theatrically, waving her hands in the teen's direction.

"Jo," Castiel's embarrassed voice spoke from behind her as he came to step by her side, a blush on his face. "We agreed on no entrances," he murmured to her, making Jo laugh.

Dean straightened up in his seat, his eyes widening.

_Shit._

Castiel looked… _really_ _nice_. His dark hair was trimmed neatly, yet it still held its naturally messy complexion- spiked up on the top and looking like the alluring sex hair Dean was used to- just _better. _The new haircut showed off Castiel's cheekbones and brought more attention to his eyes, making them shine twice as much as they originally did- if that was even freaking possible.

And, damnit, Dean could get used to seeing Castiel in black. The dark color made him look… well, sexy was the only word Dean could think of. Castiel was wearing his black shoes that he had recently purchased, his jeans a dark blue and his t-shirt clinging to his slender frame, highlighting the shape that Dean had never noticed before.

Wait- had Dean _ever seen Castiel's arms?_

They were the best part- wiry and slender and promising the potential of strong muscles underneath, with a little training. Castiel had a runner's body- all slim with a thin waist that Dean had to tear his eyes away from.

Castiel would have to wear short-sleeves more often.

Charlie and Gilda were throwing compliments at the dark-haired boy, Charlie hugging Gilda and complimenting her work enthusiastically. When Castiel met Dean's eyes shyly, Dean raised his eyebrows and gave him a weak smile, nodding his head up in recognition, making Castiel smile uneasily.

Castiel fiddled with the hem of his apron, blushing as he looked down. "I feel stupid," he commented, making Jo laugh.

"Oh, shut up, Cas. You look great! Doesn't he, Dean?" She asked, giving her friend a look.

Dean blinked when everyone's eyes were suddenly on him. "Uh, yeah. You look good, Cas," Dean complimented, his voice strained.

Damnit.

Fucking damnit.

That couldn't have been more obvious.

But it had Castiel smiling more confidently, and that made up for the girls' smirks and stupid looks they were giving Dean.

"Thank you," Castiel responded with a softer smile.

"Uh, no problem. So, you guys need me to give you a ride?" He asked everyone, more than willing for a distraction from his huge gay crush.

Charlie shook her head. "Gilda and I are good. We're going to head out," she told everyone as she and Gilda got up. "Nice seeing you guys! Good luck on your first day, Cas!" She exclaimed, giving him one last hug.

Castiel said his thank-yous, giving Gilda one last humble thanks that she returned with a hug, telling him "any time".

So Jo and Castiel gathered their things while Dean waited for them in the car. He had work in an hour, and he decided it would be alright show up a little early after dropping off Jo and Cas at work. When Castiel came outside wearing his jacket, Dean had to fight back the unexpected disappointment he felt. The two teens climbed into Dean's car, and Castiel returned Dean's clothes, giving him a thank you and a smile.

Dean may or may not have been excited about the fact that they'll smell like Cas, now.

Just like his bed.

Oh geez.

Dean drove Cas and Jo to the diner (given instructions by Jo), and he bid them farewell, wishing Castiel luck on his first day and telling him he'd pick him up later on. Castiel had given Dean a thankful smile that left Dean in a great mood, blasting Metallica on the way to work.

* * *

When Castiel entered the diner, he was greeted by Ellen.

"You two made it right on time! I was just about to open," she told them with a smile. Jo flipped the sign from closed to open, now that it was eight, and Ellen commented on Castiel's hair.

"You look so grown up! That Gilda girl did a nice job," Ellen commented, smiling as she called over to Jo to ask her to help get Castiel started.

Jo trained him throughout the entire morning, and around ten a continuous flow of people filed into the diner. Castiel quickly learned how to use the register, how to print and collect tabs, and basically where everything went and how he should place the dishes.

Castiel waited on about five different groups of customers in the course of the morning, and around twelve Ash and a girl with dark hair entered the diner. Castiel smiled at Ash- his hands too full with the many full dishes he was carrying to give a proper wave- when the brunette called out Castiel's name happily.

Once he had given the group of girls he was waiting on their orders (and refilled a few glasses), Castiel went over to the back where Ash and Jo were now situated, talking to the girl that Castiel assumed was Meg.

"Cas!" Jo exclaimed with a smile. "Hey, you're doing great. Oh- I gotta go. Ash, can you do introductions?" Jo asked, giving him a pat on the back before she grabbed a couple plates of hamburgers her mother had just settled on the counter.

"Alright, Meg- this is Castiel. We call him Cas," Ash introduced with his signature goofy smile. "Cas, this is Meg. _She's dangerous_," he whispered dramatically, earning an smirk from the girl.

"Yes I am, Lindberg. And don't you forget it," Meg agreed with a confident smile. She extended a hand out to Castiel. "Nice to meet you, _Castiel_," she said the name slowly, as if tasting something suspicious-looking for the first time.

Castiel gave her a smile, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you," he replied.

Meg smiled slyly, looking him up and down in a way that made him blush automatically. It was as if she were a carnivore observing a piece of meat. Castiel felt his heart race in a way that normally only Dean made him feel. It was odd, and he wondered what was going on with him as he looked into Meg's dark, alluring eyes.

They stared at each other for a while before Ash coughed and Castiel let go of her hand with a start, blinking and giving an apologetic smile.

"Uh- uhm, well, nice to meet you and everything. I- uh, I've got to get going. People waiting and- yeah," Castiel said with a smile, basically tripping over his feet as he clumsily walked back to tend to the people that were waiting on him, ignoring Meg's light laugh and trying to tame the heat in his cheeks.

Castiel worked busily the entire day, earning a good amount of cash tips to his delight (most of the tips had been on a credit card). He worked busily, focusing intently on not dropping any plates of food and not spilling drinks when he poured them into glasses.

He did quite well, actually.

Everyone he waited on seemed very nice to him, and he enthusiastically greeted them all, earning smiles and thanks. Castiel had never felt this confident in his life.

He tried avoiding Meg's eyes, giving her a few smiles every now and then. She did something to him, and Castiel couldn't understand what. He just found himself to be strangely allured to her, subconsciously finding a way to pass by her or allow her to brush her arm against his when they both reached for some plates or a glass.

When they were closing up and Castiel had just finished waiting on the last customers of the day, Meg came up to him at the cash register.

"Here," she said with a smirk. "This is for you. From that blond that you just finished waiting on," Meg told him, pointing over at the table he had just came back from. Castiel knitted his eyebrows together as he took the folded sheet of paper and looked over at the table where the girl caught his eye. She blushed and looked away, getting up with her friend and leaving the restaurant quickly.

Castiel unfolded the paper and looked at the numbers scrawled on it. A cell phone number?

"Why did she give me this?" Castiel asked curiously, looking up at Meg.

Meg laughed, but when Castiel didn't she stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Wait- you're not serious, right? Oh, God. You are. She likes you, Clarence," Meg said with a smirk. "She wants you to _call her _and ask her out on a _date_," Meg explained, exaggerating words as if she were speaking to a toddler.

Castiel squinted his eyes. "My name's not- uh, nevermind. I do not know her…" Castiel murmured, pocketing the paper.

Meg snorted. "That's why she gave you her number. She _wants _to know you. Don't tell me that you've never had any experience with this?"

Castiel shrugged. "Alright, I won't tell you," he replied, blushing.

He could almost hear the raise of Meg's eyebrows. "No way. I don't believe it," she told him. She sounded truly astonished.

"You don't have to," he countered.

"I mean, I don't know. You're awkward and whatever, but you're a looker. You haven't gotten a girl's number, before?" Meg asked, persistent.

Castiel looked at Meg. She was being genuine, not making fun of him- if only teasing a little bit. "Ah, no. It's not quite my area of expertise," he informed her.

"Hm," Meg replied, jutting out her lower lip as she raised her eyebrows. "You coulda fooled me," she spoke, voice smooth and sweet as honey. She walked away with a smile, leaving Castiel flustered.

"Seems like Meg is warming up to you," Jo said with a smile as she came up to Cas, shuffling papers through her hands and storing them in the drawers the cash register sat on.

"Uh- yes, I suppose," Castiel responded, looking from Meg's figure over to Jo. "I feel like she will bite my head off within the course of a week," he admitted, making Jo laugh.

"Yeah, that's Meg. Don't worry, though. She likes you, that's how she shows it," Jo reassured him. "You did really good today, Cas," she told him. "I could see you were getting some tips," Jo observed with a smile.

Castiel smiled back. "I've gotten a lot more than I thought I would. I'm just surprised I didn't spill anything," he recapped.

Jo rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Oh, please. I know you wouldn't have. Honestly, Cas, you did awesome," Jo assured.

Castiel felt his heart warm. "I love working here. It's great, Jo. Thank you for the job," he told her.

Jo gave him a pat on the back, a wide smile on her face. "Glad to have you here, Cas."

And, for once, Castiel felt truly accepted.

* * *

They were all sitting at a booth and eating burgers that Ellen had whipped up for them when Dean walked in. Castiel was sitting next to Meg (or, rather, Meg had slid in next to him), and Jo and Ash sitting right across.

"We're closed," Jo called over to Dean jokingly, patting the small space next to her as she smiled, an invite for Dean to come over.

He did, and when he plopped down next to her with a smirk he observed Meg carefully.

"Hi," he greeted with a smile, all charm. "I'm Dean," he introduced himself.

"Meg," the dark-haired girl said with a smile, giving a nod of greeting.

Dean smiled back- a little stiffer, this time. "Nice to meet you," he replied, reaching over to take a fri from Jo- who let him with an eyeroll.

"You smell like grease and cars," Jo noted with a distasteful scrunch of her nose as she pushed her plate closer to Dean in offering.

"That's because I've been working on that wreck of a Volvo," Dean commented, taking two fries and dipping them in ketchup before he took a bite. "She's almost done, though. Well, by almost I mean about a week longer. Should be done in time for Christmas," Dean informed her.

Jo smiled. "That's good. Still, you smell bad."

Dean stuck his tongue out. "I tried washing up as much as I could," he defended. "Forgive me for not hopping in the shower before I got here."

"Not forgiven," Jo, Ash, and Castiel all chorused.

The table erupted with laughter while Dean wore a less-than-amused face.

"Ha-ha," he mocked, taking the rest of Jo's plate. "These are mine, now."

Everyone continued to talk about random topics ranging from the X-men to what things go best on burgers. When Dean expressed his adamant distaste towards onions, Ash got genuinely insulted and defended his layered vegetable with honorable pride. That conversation lasted about three minutes before the table had to vote on whether or not onions were good. Dean ended up winning three to two and Ash declared he'd perform a survey on a more "representative data". Dean told him to go for it.

At one point, Meg brought up the blond girl that had given Cas her number.

"No way, you got a number on your first day?" Ash exclaimed, gawking at the dark-haired teen. Jo and Dean were kind of silent, but Jo put on a smile and laughed a little.

Castiel was blushing bright red, and Meg kept teasing him about it unrelentlessly. "She had me give him her number," Meg explained with a smirk. "He didn't even know what she was giving him her number for. Poor girl has no clue," Meg recalled with a shake of her head, smiling. When Castiel fiddled with a napkin, tearing at its edges, Meg elbowed him playfully. "Don't be so bashful, Castiel. I'm just teasing you."

Castiel gave a weak smile, feeling like his insides were melting and being mixed around with a white hot spoon. "Ah- uh, yeah," he stuttered, not sure what to say. "Uhm, I do not think I'll be calling her," Castiel admitted, looking down at his napkin.

Jo smiled. "You don't have to, Cas," she reassured him before Ash could say anything.

Castiel looked up to give Jo a grateful smile. He noticed that Dean was quiet, and when he met his eyes the blond looked away. That had brought a nervous twist within Castiel. Everyone picked up the conversational flow, again, and eventually the clock ticked from ten thirty to eleven. The teens were clearly exhausted and ready to head home.

"Alright, well I'm gonna go," Ash decided, having Dean and Jo get up so he could get out of the booth. "You need that ride, Meg?" He asked as Jo and Dean sat back down.

Meg smiled. "Yeah, I'm coming," she responded, getting up. "See you later, guys. Nice meeting you, Clarence," she told Castiel with a wink, making him blush as he gave her a smile and a wave. "And you too, blondie," she acknowledged Dean with a sly smile before she headed towards the door.

"See you guys," Ash called out, following behind Meg.

"Bye, guys," Jo replied when it was clear that Castiel and Dean weren't going to say anything. Dean had been fairly silent since Meg brought up the blond customer Castiel had waited on, and when Castiel looked at Dean their eyes met again. The feeling that clenched at his stomach was no better than the last time. Dean got up, forcing a smile.

"You ready to go, Cas?" He asked.

Castiel nodded, getting up, as well. Ellen had walked out of the kitchen, now, and she gave Dean a smile.

"Nice to see you, Dean!" She exclaimed. "You heading out?" She asked as she handed Castiel his jacket. "You left this in the back," she told him. Castiel gave her a smile, thanking her as Dean responded.

"Yeah, Cas and I are leaving," he responded with the most real smile Castiel had seen on him since he entered the diner. "I'll visit soon, Ellen," he promised as she put her hands on her hips.

"You'd better. Take care, boys," she replied.

When they climbed inside Dean's Impala, it was awkwardly silent.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Castiel asked after five minutes of driving, looking at his friend as the glow of a red stoplight lit his face. They were heading to Castiel's house, since he had gathered his things and put them in the car before they left Dean's house earlier that morning. Castiel wanted to spend the night with Dean, but he knew that would be too much.

Still, he couldn't blame himself for wanting to try and get wrapped up in Dean's arms, again.

"Yeah, long day," Dean replied, glancing at Castiel and giving him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Oh," Castiel uttered.

It was silent.

"So Meg's pretty interesting," Dean began, glancing at Castiel before he looked back at the road.

Castiel blushed. "Uh, yeah... I suppose," he responded, not quite sure what to say.

Dean shifted slightly in his seat. "You two seem close, already," he observed.

Castiel bit his lip. "Well, I guess so. I don't know- she just… makes herself know, I guess."

"Mhm," Dean replied, reaching to his cassette player to turn on some music.

When Dean pulled into Castiel's driveway, the dark-haired teen spoke up.

"Are we still working on our project, tomorrow?" He asked as he gathered his things.

"Yeah, of course," Dean replied. "I'll pick you up at twelve?"

"We can work on it at my house," Castiel offered. "That way you don't have to drive as much."

Dean smiled at that. "Alright, sounds good. Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Twelve?"

"Twelve," Dean finalized with a smile that sent Castiel's heart fluttering up to his throat.

Castiel returned the smile before getting out of the car. "Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Cas."

And as Castiel waved goodbye at Dean from his front door, he listened happily to the sound of the Impala's engine until it faded away.

* * *

**So here's a really long chapter to make up for the lack of chapters, lately.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed the angst n_n and yayyy, MEG! I've been soo freaking pumped to write Meg's character, because she's probably my favorite girl character on SPN. I promise I won't make her the "bitch" like a lot of fanfics do. She'll be awesome, and she'll be a big part of the story :D**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter! And thanks so much for all the reviews! It's the most reviews/follows I've ever gotten on a story here :) I can't even explain how much it means to me n_n**

**Thank you guys so much for all the support and everything. It truly means a lot. I hope you all had a great week, and I hope the rest of your week is just as great or better!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	18. Time For Change

Dean doesn't remember choosing his clothing this carefully in- well… _ever_, actually.

He was going to Castiel's house, today, and the last time he was there he remembered suddenly noticing everything inadequate about himself. The house was huge and fancy and Dean wanted to feel as though he were actually worthy of stepping inside it, this time.

He knew that Castiel dressed normally. It's not like Cas went around flaunting a monocle and dressed in diamond-encrusted suspenders. If he hadn't been to Cas's house, before, he'd suspect that Cas lives in a house just as average as Dean's.

But, still, that didn't change the fact that Dean pulled on his nicest jeans and stood in front of his closet trying to choose between a green and red button-up that still had their tags on.

"I thought you were going to Cas's?" Sam inquired from Dean's doorway. "Don't you have to go?" The younger teen asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting changed," Dean replied, deciding on his green shirt and slipping it on after tearing off the tag and tossing it to the floor. He buttoned it up as he looked in the mirror, and he noticed that Sam was still standing in the doorway, leaning against it with a smirk on his face.

"You've been getting changed for, like, an hour," Sam pointed out. "Why are you taking so long?"

Dean froze halfway through buttoning, and he looked at his brother. Sam had sounded suspicious, and Dean tried to not blush at Sam's hidden inquiry in his words.

"I've got a date, later," Dean defended, finishing up with his shirt before he tossed on his gray cargo jacket, shoving his keys and cellphone into his pockets.

"Oh… _okay_," Sam spoke slowly.

Dean raised an eyebrow as he looked at his brother. The younger Winchester had an innocent look on his face, eyes widened when Dean looked over and lips drawn into a line as he tried to hold back laughter. "What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, feeling a sudden need to be defensive.

Sam shrugged, looking at his watch. "It's almost noon. You'd better hurry, Dean. Wouldn't want to keep Cas waiting," Sam said with a smirk before he ran off to his room when his brother glared at him.

"Sammy, I swear to-" Dean called out.

"Have fun, Dean!" Sam replied before shutting the door to his room.

Sam was just teasing. He didn't actually think…

No, of course not.

So, keeping that in mind, Dean headed out.

* * *

Before Dean came over Saturday afternoon, Castiel had spent a majority of the morning freaking out and trying to make the house look less intimidating. Last time Dean had come over, Castiel had noticed his awkward body posture and the way he seemed as if he didn't want to touch anything.

Well, until he got to Castiel's room, that is.

Castiel still remembered the light smile that lifted the corner of Dean's lips as he looked at the picture of Castiel and his family. He remembered the way Dean walked around his room, letting himself touch and observe things in a relaxed manner.

When Castiel remembered that, he decided that he'd have them work on the project in his room. So he assembled all the things they'd need, laying it out on a small table he had brought into his room. After he'd done the most he could to prepare (raising the temperature of his house being one of those things), Castiel sat down in his room and waited.

And waited…

At twelve fifteen, the doorbell rang.

Castiel raced down the stairs and opened the door to see Dean's apologetic face.

"Hey," Dean began. "Sorry for running late. I forgot the supplies at home and had to turn back," Dean explained as he lifted his backpack up slightly.

Castiel smiled, opening the door wider. "It's no problem. Come in," he insisted.

When Dean walked past him, Castiel felt his heart leap at the smell of Dean's cologne as it wafted off him. Closing the door, Castiel allowed himself to observe Dean for a moment. The blond teen had obviously taken a shower before he arrived here. He smelled really nice and his face was clean-shaven. Also, Castiel noticed that Dean was wearing a shirt he hadn't seen, before. The material was a soft forest green color that made his eyes shine. Lastly, Dean was wearing jeans that lacked their usual holes and scruff, just a smooth and nicely-fitting denim material that looked eye-catching on Dean's slender legs.

Swallowing back a lump in his throat, Castiel tore his eyes away from his friend. Had Dean gotten dressed nicely for Castiel?

He couldn't help but smile slightly at that thought.

So he led Dean to his room, and they worked on their project. They had to present it on Wednesday, so they agreed they'd try and get it done today so that they wouldn't have to struggle through their busy schedules to complete it.

Castiel had made some ramen for the two of them a couple of hours into their project, apologizing for lacking better food when he had brought the bowls into his room where Dean was gluing pictures onto their poster. Dean had just given him a charming smile, insisting that it was perfect. That had sent a flutter of warm butterflies within Castiel, along with the subtle brush of Dean's hand against his when he handed him his bowl.

Those touches had been frequent while they worked, a bump of their legs together and brushes of fingers when they handed each other things. They'd lean into each other's space as they worked on the poster, the air between them warm and intoxicating to Castiel's senses.

Once it reached five o'clock, they had almost completed their tri-fold poster. Suddenly, Dean's cell phone buzzed with a text message.

His eyes had widened when he flipped open the phone and realized the time, and he muttered "_shit_" under his breath as he read the message. "Sorry, Cas, I got to get going," Dean apologized as he got up, picking up his backpack. "I've, uh, got a thing," he tried to explain.

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed as he stood up, as well. "A thing?" He asked, putting down the blue permanent marker held in his hand after snapping on the lid.

Dean blushed slightly. "Uh, yeah. I've got a date," Dean explained almost apologetically. "I'm late, I was supposed to pick her up like ten minutes ago," Dean explained.

Castiel felt his heart drop at the news, his blood running cold with shock. "Oh," he uttered. He suddenly felt like he was not completely here. He tried to tell himself that this wasn't happening as dread seeped into his heart.

Dean was going on a date.

He was leaving early when they had planned to spend Sunday working together.

He was leaving because he had a girl that he'd much rather spend time with.

That thought sent Castiel's heart pounding and brought upon a tingling behind his eyes.

Dean paused in his movements as he eyed Castiel carefully. He then looked away, shuffling awkwardly in his spot. "Uhm, should I leave the supplies here? I can come back tomorrow and we can work on-"

"I'll finish it," Castiel insisted, surprised he could even speak when it felt as though his heart was lodged in his throat. "Do not worry about it," he added when Dean opened his mouth to protest.

Licking his lips, Dean nodded hesitantly. "Alright. Uhm, I'll text you tonight?" He asked, voice seeming strained and slightly hopeful.

Castiel nodded, his neck feeling stiff. "Yes, alright," he replied.

He led Dean downstairs, and as Dean walked out the door he spoke. "See ya, Cas."

Castiel felt sick and dizzy- like his whole world had been pulled out from under his feet.

"Have fun, Dean," he told him, forcing a smile when Dean looked back at him. The blond returned the smile, and it didn't quite reach his eyes as he waved slightly before climbing into the Impala and driving away.

When Castiel closed the door behind him, he retreated to his room and worked on the poster to try and rid his heart of its aching pounding. Halfway into writing a passage from one of Tennyson's poems, though, the poster suddenly became blurry as tears obscured his vision.

Castiel wiped them away stubbornly as he took a deep breath. He refused to cry. He would not resort to that.

Dean hadn't gotten dressed all nice for Castiel, he realized. And he suddenly felt very stupid and completely embarrassed for thinking he had.

That had brought more tears to Castiel's eyes as he put his pen down, wiping at his eyes again as he let out a tearful gasp. His heart felt as though it had been torn out of his body, leaving behind an empty, painful hole. He was honestly beginning to think that maybe Dean liked him. Castiel was starting to believe that maybe he had a chance with Dean.

He felt so stupid.

Dean didn't like him- not in the way that Castiel liked Dean, at least. Dean was straight. He was just kind to Castiel. He was too good for him and he was too perfect and Castiel wasn't worthy.

More tears falling down his cheeks, Castiel was hit with the aching realization that Dean could never love him.

And he was so naive to have thought otherwise.

* * *

Despite his hesitance with the date, Dean ended up having a really good time. His night with Pamela hadn't ended up with a typical "sex and never call again" fashion. They had actually only gone as far as making out and light groping in the movie theater, and Dean realized that he actually kind of liked her.

Pamela was pretty much awesome. She was funny and respectable and Dean found that he enjoyed talking with her. It was basically the best date he's had in a while, and they ended it with planning another one next weekend.

And as Dean drove home later that night, he thought about the date, thinking back to how happy Pamela actually made him.

Well, that was until he noticed that her hair was the same color as Cas's.

And her eyes.

But he tried not to think of that when he kissed her or talked to her or secretly wished for Castiel to be there.

Dean was finally starting to get over Castiel. Or, at least he was trying to.

And that's all that mattered.

* * *

Monday had been awkward. Throughout their day at school, Cas and Dean barely talked. Castiel had asked Dean how his night went, and Dean had answered truthfully, telling him it went really well. It was then that Dean remembered he had forgotten to text Castiel, so he asked how the project went. Castiel answered saying that he had finished it, and that had made Dean feel like absolute crap.

They hadn't talked other than that for the rest of the day, and Dean just kept reminding himself that this was for the better.

That was until lunch when Pamela had texted him and Ash had caught her name on Dean's phone.

"Who's Pamela?" He asked with a teasing smirk.

Dean blushed, shoving his phone in his jacket pocket. He noticed Castiel tense across from him. The dark-haired teen had been reading a book all throughout lunch, barely paying mind to those around him until Ash mentioned Pam's name. "No one. Just a girl," he answered with a mutter, trying to stop the conversation before it could pick up.

But the rest of the table (besides Castiel) was now looking at Dean curiously. "Has Dean Winchester found himself a lady?" Ash asked, elbowing Dean and laughing before taking a sip from his bottle of water.

Dean rolled his eyes. "We went on one date," he defended. He really didn't want to have this conversation. Not when Castiel suddenly looked up at Dean with blue eyes that were filled with confusion and blame.

Adam smiled from Castiel's right, leaning forward as he looked at Dean. "So, did you two…?"

"_Jesus_, no we didn't," Dean replied, wanting to crawl under the table at that moment. "We just went on one date, for Christ's sake."

"From what I heard, that didn't stop you from your 'night' with Lisa," Ash said with a sly smile. When Dean glared at him, Ash laughed. "Calm down, Dean. You know I'm just messing with ya. Anyways, do you like her?" He asked, seeming genuinely curious.

Dean licked his lips. "Yeah. Yeah, she's nice," he admitted. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to break through bone and flesh. "Uhm, I'll be right back. 'Gonna go get some water," he announced, getting up and walking away from the lunch table as fast as he could.

When he got to the cafeteria fridge and retrieved a bottle of juice, he turned around to see Jo with the most pissed off look she has ever worn.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked as she advanced on him, seeming genuinely angry, her hands balled in tight fists.

Dean's jaw dropped, and he straightened up before answering her. "What do you mean?" He asked in a slightly angry tone, trying to play stupid.

Jo put her hands on her hips as she glared. "So you've got the nerve to ask out and fuck random girls but you won't tell Cas you like him?" She accused.

Dean's eyes widened, and he looked over at their lunch table at the other side of the commons. Nobody was watching them, yet he still worried they'd find out what Jo said, anyways.

He looked back at Jo and sighed before he answered. "I'm not going to ask out Cas, okay? I just… it's not going to happen. It's too weird," Dean replied, trying to sound conclusive. Who was Jo to accuse him like this? He had only slept with Lisa, anyways. Dean had given Cas practically his full attention ever since he met him. Hell, he deserved to try and start a relationship with a girl. This whole thing with Cas was ridiculous. It shouldn't happen- Cas just _doesn't _feel that way. Not about Dean, at least. Dean didn't deserve Castiel.

Jo looked bewildered at Dean's answer. "_Why?_" She asked, fuming. "Because he has a dick? Because you want to defend your 'masculinity'?" She spat out. When Dean opened his mouth to reply, she rolled her eyes and grabbed a couple of napkins. "Get over yourself, Dean," she hissed before heading back to their table with an angry stomp in her stride.

And Dean was left there, mouth dry and heart heavy in his chest, feeling even worse than before.

* * *

**Sorry for the short chapter, but I figured it'd be alright since the last one was so long.**

**Just needed to put this in here so that things can pick up, again :) Next chapter will be the Christmas one. There'll be plenty of destiel fluff, and a little bit of angst, as well. So yeah... **

**I'm getting sick, so that's no fun... Think I'm getting strep throat, I can barely swallow anything and I'm losing my voice... I feel like making one of my characters get sick... or making someone die... I'm in that mood. Beware.**

**Goodnight friends, I must catch up on some sleep and drink plenty of orange juice and dumb crap like that.**

**I hope you all had a lovely weekend. **

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**

**Sidenote: Thank you everyone for all the encouraging and wonderful reviews! I mean, holy fuck we've almost reached 200 and this story has like over 200 followers and holy crap I didn't even freaking notice until now and I'm currently having my mind blown because what the fuck. I never thought this fic would get any readers or followers whatsoever, so this is making me very happy indeed n_n **

**#stillwaitingforthesuddenfameandfanartandpopularit y**

**But yeah you guys are literally the best n_n I would be nothing without you all **

**Also, if you follow me on tumblr and i dont follow you back, let me know! I wanna follow all of you guys. **

**Yes. Have a lovely week, my beautiful readers. Stay happy, and thank you for reading this horribly awful story. I appreciate every single one of you.**

***hearts***


	19. Travel

Eventually, things settled down between Castiel and Dean. They went through their usual routine of studying together and seeing one another at school. Castiel worked at the diner, and Dean worked at the auto shop. Things gradually began to get back to normal, and Castiel noticed that Dean seemed grateful for that.

And when Castiel found out that Dean had another date with Pamela, he simply gave his friend a genuine smile and told him that he hoped he had fun. It only took a couple of nights of holding back tears and telling himself to get over it for Castiel to return himself to his regular schedule. He was not over his heartbreak- well, he never could truly be. But Castiel knew he could not allow his unrequited affections to hurt him. He couldn't let Dean's choices impact him. Not like this.

It's not like Dean was supposed to fall in love with Castiel and be his forever. Castiel didn't own Dean, and he knew that. So he encouraged Dean to continue dating Pamela, listening about their dates and trying so, _so _hard not to envy her. It was difficult not to imagine, though, and Castiel couldn't stop himself from at least doing that. He spent more time than he'd like to admit wishing that it was him going to the movies with Dean's arm around him as they watched a crappy film. He constantly thought of what it would be like to walk through the park at night with Dean and talk as they sat on the swings. The worst part was knowing that Pamela was living out all of Castiel's most precious dreams. Castiel tried _so _hard not to wish it _him _that those green eyes looked at so fondly. He tried to ignore the fact that he wished it was him holding Dean's hand and kissing Dean's lips and making Dean happy.

Because it wasn't him, and he knew it would never be.

And Castiel knew he had to accept that, no matter how much it might hurt.

Soon Christmas break was upon them. School was over for the semester, and Castiel had made all A's. He couldn't wait to tell his father, and he hoped that maybe this Christmas he could finally make his father happy with him. Castiel had earned his first paycheck, and he gave some money to Ellen to get her to buy one of his dad's favorite bottles of wine (one Castiel could afford, at least). Ellen had agreed, and later on she returned with the bottle Castiel had requested. It was a red wine (Andezon, Cotes-du Rhone Syrah). Castiel remembered his father drinking it during Christmas time when Castiel was a child, and he knew his father really liked it. He had remembered the strange name on the bottle, and after doing some research he had found the name of the bottle online and a local store to get it from.

So he wrapped it up nice and set it under a giant plastic Christmas tree that he pulled from their storage closet. They hadn't used the tree in years- not since the church came over when Castiel was only a freshman in high school. He decorated the tree with a box filled with decorations, and after adding some fairy lights Castiel had deemed it an acceptable Christmasy decoration that made even the coldness of his home seem warmer with welcome.

Castiel then spent the whole week cleaning up the house and preparing for his father's arrival. He had bought some food that he could easily prepare with some google tips (a ham, some mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes, and biscuits), and Castiel worked on preparing the food all throughout the morning of Christmas, setting up the dining table to look flawless for his father's arrival.

The group was staying in town for Christmas, convincing their parents not to plan any trips because they had planned a new year's eve party at Charlie's house, and they all wanted to attend it. Everyone was busy for Christmas, each teen having to deal with family members. Uncle Bobby would be visiting the Winchesters, and Dean had planned to hang out with Castiel the day after Christmas in order to exchange gifts.

Castiel had felt strangely warm at the fact that Dean had gotten him a gift, and he tried to hold in his need to tell Dean what he had gotten him. Castiel had used practically all of his money he had earned on getting gifts for his friends, and he had no regrets about it.

But Dean's gift was the most special. Dean's gift included things Castiel bought and something that was a part of him.

He had spent an extra-careful amount of time choosing the gift and then wrapping it up with green and red Christmas paper. He stored all of his friend's presents in his closet for safekeeping, fighting back the excitement he felt course through his veins. Castiel loved the presents he chose, and he was certain his friends would, too. They would all be exchanging gifts at Charlie's party, and Castiel found that he was counting down the days until then.

He kept his friends in mind as he prepared for his father's arrival. It had snowed, today, piling up to nearly a foot high. It was unexpected, and Dean had called Cas telling him they were totally having a snowball fight the next day when they met up. Castiel smiled to himself as he prepared his father's dinner, trying to push down the uneasiness that stirred in his stomach. Castiel's father would be coming home at four o'clock on Christmas day, and now that that day had arrived Castiel was a nervous wreck.

His phone buzzed with messages as he cooked, and he allowed himself to look away from his ham to read his text messages.

_Charlie: Merry Christmas, Cas! I've got plenty of new awful-dress photos, so be prepared… xoxo_

Castiel chuckled before answering, a smile wide on his face.

_Castiel: I look forward to it. Merry Christmas, Charlie._

He sent the message and then read the next one.

_Jo: Mom and I say Merry Xmas! Have fun with your dad, Cas! I'll see you bright and early, tomorrow ;) _

Castiel smiled. The diner was closed for Christmas, today, but would be open tomorrow. Castiel had been working all throughout the break, scheduling his work days for basically every day except Sundays and Charlie's party. He enjoyed working, so he didn't mind.

_Castiel: Merry Christmas, you two. See you tomorrow, Jo._

Chuck and Adam sent "Merry Christmas" texts, as well, and Castiel replied to them both. Ash drunk texted him (Castiel suspected), his words horribly misspelled and instead of saying "Merry Christmas" he wrote "Happy Easter". That had sent Castiel laughing as he replied with "You'd better check the snow for those eggs. I heard the Easter Bunny hid them extra well this year".

He read Dean's texts last, and what the first one said warmed his heart.

_Dean: y'know, I can still help with your dad's dinner if you want? things goin' ok?_

And the next text messages put Castiel through a fit of giggles.

_Dean: Bobby dropped the ham. we gotta resort to eating it off the floor like animals of the wild_

_Dean: got Sam a Sapphire Barbie doll as a prank gift. hes not amused_

_Dean: Im the best brother ever_

Castiel rolled his eyes as he responded, his cheeks hurting from smiling so hard.

_Castiel: Everything is going fine. I've managed not to burn dinner, and I believe it might even be edible. Father will be proud. Sorry about your dinner, but you could always pick it up and call for the five-second rule. Dean, get your brother a proper gift._

Castiel placed his cell phone on the counter as he set up the dining table with their best dishes and placemats, making the dining room as beautiful as he could manage.

When Castiel went back to the kitchen, his phone had a new text.

_Dean: Proud of you, Cas. I bet it's great. &its all good- got Sam a DS & a game for it. what kind of a brother do u think i am?_

_Castiel: The best one. Merry Christmas, Dean. _

It took a couple of minutes before Dean replied. Castiel found it to be unusual, because Dean normally replied right away, unless he was sleeping.

_Dean: Merry Christmas, Cas. See u tomorrow & good luck. _

Castiel decided to leave it at that as he finished up dinner. It was almost four o'clock, and the dark-haired teen tried to tame the nervousness that shook his body.

When the front door finally opened, Castiel was standing at the dining table waiting nervously for his father.

"Castiel?" His father's voice called out curiously.

"In the dining room," Castiel replied, straightening a couple of dishes before standing up straight when his father walked in.

The tall man froze, eyeing the table suspiciously. "What's all this?" He asked, his voice monotonous.

Castiel suddenly felt his throat tighten. "Uhm, I made dinner for you. Uh- for Christmas and… yeah," Castiel murmured, shrugging, his hands interlocked behind his back as he looked down and away from his father.

It was silent for a moment. "Oh."

Castiel looked up at his dad, noticing the surprised look that now enveloped his face. "Uhm, I got you something, too," Castiel informed him as he rushed to the living room to retrieve his father's present from under the tree. When he got back to the dining room, his father had taken off his scarf and coat and had hung them on the coathanger, revealing his expensive suit underneath. Castiel handed his father the wrapped wine bottle, and his father took it slowly.

After he unwrapped it, he observed the bottle with a dismissive air to his gaze. "How did you afford all of this?" He asked, gesturing to the table.

"Uh, I work at Mrs. Harvelle's diner- Jo gave me the job. I wait on tables. I got some tips and my first paycheck and I wanted to make a Christmas dinner for when you got home because… well, uh, we haven't had one in a while. I gave Mrs. Harvelle the money to buy the wine for you," Castiel informed his father.

His father scrutinized the bottle further. "Thank you," he uttered.

Castiel smiled wide, his heart leaping in his chest. "You're welcome," he replied, pulling out his father's chair for him to sit.

He did, and they both sat across from one another at the dining table, silently eating the Christmas dinner Castiel had prepared.

Well, Castiel spent more time discreetly eyeing his father when he tried different dishes to make sure he didn't completely despise it. Dean had given Castiel a lot of help on the recipes and how to prepare the food, and they had practiced cooking simpler things at Dean's house days before. He only hoped his practice paid off.

And it seemed as though it did. Castiel's father ate the food without any flinching or spitting, so Castiel took that as a good sign as he let himself relax and eat.

"How are your grades?" The authoritative man asked, eyeing Castiel dangerously as he poured some wine into his glass, as if he suspected this whole dinner was placed in order to prevent Castiel from getting kicked out.

Castiel pulled out his report card from his pocket. It was folded and creased sharply from the many times Castiel had pulled it out to observe it. "I got all A's," Castiel told his father as he handed him the paper.

The older man took the yellow paper, opening it and reading the grades carefully.

After a few agonizing minutes, he set it down. "Good job, Castiel," he spoke, seeming rather impressed. Castiel smiled, holding back the excitement that bubbled within him.

"Thank you," he replied.

After a couple more minutes of eating, his father spoke again. "Where did you learn to cook this?" He asked. Castiel deemed the statement as a compliment to his cooking.

"I, uh, I looked up the recipes. Also, my friend Dean gave me some instructions," Castiel replied, picking up his glass of sparkling apple cider as he took a sip.

"Dean… the fellow that's been giving you lifts to school in that old Impala?" Castiel's father asked, making Castiel choke on his cider, the fizz burning his nose.

Castiel coughed, clearing his throat before he answered. "Uh- uhm, yes. Yeah, how did you-"

His father rolled his eyes. "I've seen the car parked outside the house, Castiel. You've been around this friend of yours quite frequently. It's horribly rude for you to have kept him from visiting our home," the man pointed out, seeming quite agitated. "You should invite him for dinner, tomorrow- seven o'clock. I'd like to meet him officially," Castiel's father declared.

Castiel's head was spinning. Since when did his father care about Castiel's social life? This was all completely mind-boggling, and Castiel felt a sudden dire need to just run away to his room and never come out. He didn't want his father to meet Dean. He knew that he would only try to scare him away or judge him horribly. "Uh, yes, sir. I will call him," Castiel replied weakly, deciding not to tell his father that Dean had already visited their home while he wasn't here.

"Let me know what he says," the man replied, wiping his hands with a napkin before setting it down and retreating from the dining room.

Castiel felt his heart sink in his chest. This was not going to go well, at all.

* * *

Dean was busy cleaning the dishes when Castiel called. He wiped a hand on a towel and flipped open his phone, propping it between his shoulder and ear as he continued washing dishes. "Sup, Cas?" Dean asked.

"Dean? Uh, something happened…" Castiel's voice spoke from the staticky connection between their phones.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed as he paused from washing a bowl. "What? What's wrong?" He asked.

Castiel seemed hesitant. "Uhm. Well, uh, my dad decided he wants to meet you, apparently," Castiel explained.

Dean's heart nearly stopped in his chest. "_Huh?_" He asked, unable to form words.

"I'm sorry, Dean. Uh, he wants you to come over for dinner, tomorrow. He noticed you were giving me rides to school and that I've been hanging out with you a lot and when I told him that you helped me with dinner and stuff he asked about you and I told him you're my friend and I don't even know why he's curious but he is, so he said he'd like to meet you," Castiel spoke fast.

"Woah, woah, calm down, Cas. Uh, yeah, sure. No problem. What time does he want me over?" Dean asked.

"Seven. I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel apologized, again, his voice hushed and seeming very small, as if he were afraid his father would hear their conversation.

"You don't have to apologize, Cas," Dean said with a laugh as he washed another dish. "It's just dinner. I mean, how bad can it be?" Dean asked, although he had a pretty good feeling that he knew.

"You might find my father to be… difficult to converse with," Castiel spoke, voice gruff. "You don't have to come," Castiel added when Dean didn't reply.

"No. No, I'm coming. We can go after work. It's all good, Cas, don't worry," Dean assured.

Castiel huffed, the exhale of his breath loud in Dean's ear. "Alright. Well, Merry Christmas. I'll see you tomorrow," Castiel spoke.

Dean smiled into the receiver of the phone. "See ya, Cas."

* * *

The next day Castiel had been frantic during work. He couldn't stop thinking about the activities that would take place tonight, and that had caused him to mix up a bunch of orders and nearly drop a few dishes. Ellen had been concerned when Castiel mixed up his fifth order, and she had him work in the back cleaning dishes with Meg, instead. Castiel had listened to Meg talk about random things, grateful for the slight distraction. He couldn't stop worrying, even when Dean assured him this morning that everything would be fine.

Castiel had agreed to go with Dean to his house after work so that Dean could get ready. He had said that he "didn't want to smell like crap cars" during dinner, and that had gotten a nervous laugh out of Castiel.

So now Castiel was sitting on Dean's bed, waiting for the teen to get out of the shower. Castiel had changed into a blue button up (one that Dean seemed to eye warily) and had slipped on some clean jeans.

When Dean walked into his room, he was humming and softly singing to a tune Castiel didn't recognize, towel hung low on his waist and skin glistening with beads of clean water. Castiel tried not to stare as he looked away.

"No peeking," Dean joked when he saw that Castiel had looked away.

Castiel rolled his eyes, fighting off a blush. "I'm not, Dean. Hurry up, please," he spoke impatiently, making Dean chuckle.

"Alright, alright," Dean spoke, resuming humming the tune he was singing earlier. Castiel let himself listen to Dean's smooth voice, accompanied by the rustle of denim and the clinking of a belt. "It's safe to look, now," Dean informed his friend.

Castiel looked over at Dean to see that he was still shirtless, his towel in his hand as he rubbed it through his hair, looking through his closet for a shirt to wear. All Castiel could think was _how on Earth is this safe to look at?_

Dean was well-built, Castiel noted. He wasn't exactly putting any bulky body builders to shame, but Dean was slender, the outlined trace of abs firming his stomach and his arms rippling with the beginning of built muscles. Although he had a flat, firm-looking stomach, Castiel could still detect the softness that Dean's belly seemed to hold, and he felt a sudden strong urge to run his hands all over Dean's shirtless self.

Clearing his throat, Castiel looked away, trying to tame the heat in his stomach.

Pretty soon Dean had dressed himself in a black t-shirt with a green button up, throwing on his navy cargo jacket over that. Castiel tried to ignore his extreme disappointment on the amount of layers that guarded his eyes from Dean's bare skin.

It's not like Dean was his.

Dean is _straight_, Castiel.

_Dean is Pamela's._

"Do I look presentable?" Dean asked, spreading out his arms and giving a winning smile.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "You always look presentable, Dean," Castiel spoke before he could even gather what he said. He noticed Dean blush and suddenly Castiel wanted to smack himself across the face. He was not very skilled at hiding his immense attraction towards his best friend, especially not recently.

"Uh, thanks, Cas," Dean replied, looking in the mirror as he looked away from the dark-haired teen.

Standing up, Castiel gave his friend a forced smile, trying to ease the tension. "You ready?" He asked.

Dean turned around from fixing his hair in the mirror to return Castiel's smile. "Yeah, definitely. Let's go," he insisted as he grabbed his keys and cell phone from his desk, shoving them in his pocket and walking out the door. Castiel trailed behind him, his heart fluttering when he smelled Dean's shampoo waft from behind the blond boy as he walked.

Before they went out the front door, Dean stopped at the kitchen, retrieving something from a cabinet. Castiel quickly noticed it was a champagne bottle.

"What's that for?" Castiel asked.

Dean gave his friend a smile. "It's a present for your dad from Bobby. I'm tryin' to get on Mr. Novak's good side," Dean explained with a wink. "You think he'll like this brand?" Dean asked, lifting up the bottle for Castiel to inspect.

He quickly looked at the label on the bottle, and nodded. It was one that Castiel's father would normally provide at house parties he'd hold. "It's great, actually. Thank you, Dean," Castiel said with a smile. "You really didn't have to do all this," Castiel added.

Dean gave his friend a genuine smile, his dimples alluring and his eyes bright. "It's no problem, Cas. Now come on, let's go. We're gonna be late."

* * *

When Castiel unlocked the door to his home, he found that his fingers were shaking.

What on Earth led to this?

Taking a deep breath, Castiel opened the door to his home, letting Dean in first before walking in behind him. The house was warm and inviting, although the furniture looked to cost more than a human kidney. But there was nothing Castiel could really do about that. He inwardly cringed when he noticed Dean stiffen up a bit, already looking uncomfortable. Nobody else would be able to notice Dean's discomfort, but Castiel did.

"Castiel?" A baritone voice rung out.

"Yes, I'm here. Dean is here, as well," Castiel replied.

"Ah, well come into the dining room. I'm just finishing setting the table," Castiel's father replied.

The dark haired teen was completely shocked at his father's light and… well, parent-like tone. It was unusual to hear except for when-

Oh.

That's what this was all for.

Castiel's father had definitely noticed Dean's suspicious gaze that week at Ellen's house. He wanted to pretend to be an excellent father so that Dean would think he is and tell everyone else (specifically Ellen and Jo) that there was nothing to worry about.

Castiel's heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach as he led Dean to the dining room. Although this would make dinner less awkward and Castiel was slightly relieved, he still felt disappointed. It was just more lies to be thrown at Dean- lies that he could honestly do nothing about without causing an epidemic.

When Castiel's father came into view, Dean gave him a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, sir," he greeted with a handshake that the man strongly accepted. "I'm Dean Winchester."

Castiel's father gave a polite smile. "It's very nice to properly meet you, Mr. Winchester."

"Please, my father is Mr. Winchester. You can call me Dean," the blond teen replied. Castiel smiled. Dean seemed so at ease and he was extremely likeable. Castiel even noticed his father's shoulders loosening up as the smile on his face became more genuine.

"Nice to meet you, Dean," the taller man spoke.

Dean smiled warmly. "Oh, and this is a gift from my uncle," Dean added, handing the bottle in his hand to Castiel's father.

He took the bottle with a "thank you". "Please, have a seat," he insisted, gesturing towards the table.

Dean sat at the table, Castiel sitting at his right. Castiel's father sat across from Dean, and Castiel could feel his heart pound in his chest.

Despite his anxieties, though, Dean impressed Castiel's father thoroughly. He was absolutely charming, stirring up light conversation over dinner, asking about Castiel's father's work and praising him on his "genius" when the man told stories of cases he's been busy with. Dean listened intently and spoke of how his little brother wanted to be a lawyer, and that had brought up the topic of Dean's family.

"You said your uncle gifted this champagne," Mr. Novak spoke as he poured some more into his glass. "Does your uncle live with you?" He asked, eyeing Dean.

Dean straightened up slightly in his seat, and Castiel tensed. The topic of Dean's authoritative figures had somehow managed to go unmentioned throughout dinner, until now.

"My father works away from home, a lot. My Uncle Bobby takes care of Sam and me while he's gone. He, uh, he doesn't live with us. He just checks up often," Dean explained.

Castiel's father nodded. "I understand. My work calls for the same priorities. Speaking of which, I appreciate you watching my son while I'm not here to care for him," Mr. Novak said with a smile. Castiel felt his throat squeeze. He could almost hear telepathic thoughts his father was sending him saying "blow my cover and this is the last meal you'll eat".

Dean smiled. "It's no problem at all. Cas- uh, Castiel is a good friend. Sam and I enjoy spending time with him," Dean spoke honestly, kicking Castiel's foot lightly under the table in assurance.

Castiel felt his heart warm and calm at the statement, and he fought back the smile that lightly lifted the corner of his lips as he chewed on a piece of lasagna.

The rest of dinner went smoothly, with Dean's foot resting against Castiel's under the table. He tried not to blush, because Dean was only doing it to calm him down. When they finished eating, Dean helped Castiel clear the table. After Dean insisted he'd like to help with washing the dishes, Castiel's father had kindly declined, saying that Dean was the guest and shouldn't have to.

So Castiel was taking Dean to his room to retrieve Dean's Christmas present. The blond was confused when Castiel had insisted that they needed to go to his room, but he followed anyways.

"That wasn't so bad," Dean commented when they were in the safety of Castiel's room. "You made me think it'd be a lot worse. Your father is pretty nice," Dean noted.

Castiel shrugged as he rifled through his closet. "He liked you. You did very well, Dean," Castiel said with a smirk. "I was impressed."

"Hey, I can be decent if I wanna be," Dean defended, plopping himself down on Castiel's bed, the simple action making Castiel's heart leap. "Ye of little faith," Dean added with an old English accent, making Castiel laugh.

"No, I knew you'd be alright. I was just worried my father wouldn't," Castiel clarified as he pulled out Dean's present. "Here we are," Castiel commented with a smile when he turned around.

Dean looked shocked at the present in Castiel's hands. It was fairly big and square-shaped, with another smaller and flatter square-shaped present on top. "These are for you," Castiel spoke as he walked over to his friend and handed him the wrapped presents.

Dean's jaw dropped as he accepted the presents hesitantly. "Cas, you didn't have to. I mean, like, geez this is a lot," he noted as he weighed the present in his hands.

Castiel smiled as he sat down next to Dean. "Well, you deserve that and more," Castiel pointed out. "You've honestly helped me out so much, Dean. Also, I've got Sam's present for him. I could give it to you to give to him before you leave."

Dean looked over at Castiel, blue and green eyes meeting for a long moment before he tore his gaze away and looked at his wristwatch. "Hey, do you want to open this in the car? I've got your present in there, too," Dean spoke, looking up at Castiel with a raised eyebrow.

Castiel nodded, smiling. "Yes, alright."

So the two friends went down the stairs, grabbing their coats from the coat hanger as Castiel told his father he'd be right back. Mr. Novak bid Dean a kind farewell, then retreated upstairs to his office.

It was cold outside, and the snow crunched under Castiel's feet as he walked with Dean to the Impala. Dean reached into the trunk and brought out a nicely-sized package wrapped poorly with silver wrapping paper- little snowmen dotting the shiny parchment.

"Uh, I'm crap at wrapping," Dean spoke, blushing as he scratched at the back of his neck in an embarrassed manner. "Hey, do you want to sit in the car or on the trunk?" Dean asked as he handed Castiel his gift, which Castiel accepted with a smile.

Castiel smirked. "Let's sit out here. It was too hot in the house," Castiel commented.

Dean agreed with a laugh, and they both sat on the trunk of his car, legs touching as they adjusted themselves comfortably. "Open at the same time?" Dean asked with a smile when Castiel looked his way.

Castil grinned back. "Alright. One, two, three-"

Wrapping paper was ripped, and Castiel found that he was looking over at Dean rather than at the gift in his hands. He wanted to see Dean's facial expression.

And it was so worth it.

"Cas, _shit_, it this-" Dean cut himself off, delicately running fingers over the record player in his hands. It was a small box record player that used to belong to Castiel when he was younger. In the second package there were about six different Metallica, Led Zeppelin and other records that Castiel had bought at an old music shop. Ash had taken him, and he helped Castiel find music that Dean would love, since they had practically the same taste.

"Do you like it?" Castiel asked, feeling uneasy.

"Do I- hell, Cas, of course I do!" Dean exclaimed, letting out a breathy laugh as he looked through the records. "I haven't even shown these bands to you yet," Dean noted. "How did you know I-"

"Ash helped me out a little," Castiel explained.

Dean licked his lips as he looked up from his gift to Castiel. "The record player- these things are expensive, Cas. How did you afford it?" Dean asked.

Castiel smiled. "It used to be mine. It was a gift from my mother when I was four. We'd listen to jazz and classical music on it when I was little," Castiel explained.

Dean's eyes widened. "Cas, I can't take this," he suddenly spoke, handing the record player back.

But Castiel just shook his head, pushing the item back to Dean. "No, Dean. I want you to have it. I do not use it, anymore. I think it should be put to good use, and I know you'd enjoy it more than me," Castiel insisted.

Dean's eyebrows were furrowed. He was hesitant. "Cas, your mother gave it to you."

"And she'd be happy that it will be used by someone who loves it, rather than stuffed to the back of my closet and collecting dust," Castiel argued. "Honestly, Dean. I'd really like for you to take it," Castiel repeated.

Dean drew his lips into a tight line before he reluctantly nodded. "Alright. But we're both using this. Bring your records and we can listen to them when we're at my house, okay?" Dean asked. "Please, Cas," he begged when Castiel frowned.

With a smile and roll of his eyes, Castiel nodded. "Fine- alright, Dean."

The blond smiled triumphantly. Then he eyed the gift in Castiel's lap. "Well that just made my gift seem like absolute crap," Dean murmured, seeming embarrassed.

Castiel realized with a start that he hadn't even looked at his own gift, yet. He looked down at his lap and picked up what seemed to be four generously thick books, along with a folded, big piece of paper.

Castiel read along the spines of the books. It was the complete series of Gulliver's Travels. Castiel smiled. "Is there a story behind this?" He asked as he unfolded the paper that came with the books, revealing it to be a map of America.

Dean blushed at Castiel's side. "Uh, yeah. Er, well, when I was younger my mom would read these books to me- well, the kid's version, anyways. Uhm, well I always really liked them, y'know? It made me want to travel, maybe take a road trip one day and go on an adventure. And when I got older I just felt like… well, I wanted to explore and travel even more. I just always really liked the idea of just driving the Impala through open roads and just seeing a bunch of things without having to worry about moving there, I guess," Dean rambled. He leaned in closer to Castiel, reaching an arm out to point at the places that seemed to be circled in red pen on the map held between Castiel's hands.

Castiel stretched out the map wider, letting Dean lean in and savoring the body heat the blond teen provided him in the cold night. "I've marked all the places I wanna visit on this map. I traced the roads and numbered the places in order of which seems coolest and stuff. Like, if I do end up travelling I don't want it to be in any order. I just wanna drive to random places- even if they're out of the way of where I'm headed- and find these cities that I really wanna visit," Dean explained. "Anyways, well, for the longest time I wanted to do all this by myself… I mean, I always wanted to bring Sammy along, but he just seems like he has his life so set, you know? I didn't want to drag him into this, it'd be too messy. He hates travelling, anyways. So I kinda told myself it'd just be something I'd do on my own… Well, I guess I realized I _don't_ want to do this on my own. I just… well, I thought it'd be really fun to take you along, one day. I mean, I know you're really smart and you're probably gonna land yourself in Harvard or something and then you'll have to move away, but… I don't know, I just think it'd be the most fun with you," Dean admitted, looking up at Castiel for the first time, now.

Castiel gazed at Dean, his mouth slightly agape with the shock of Dean's words. Dean blushed, ducking his head and looking away. "I mean, you don't have to. I probably won't even be able to do this, but it's just kind of a dream I always had," Dean explained.

Castiel licked his dry lips, looking back at the map and smiling. "It sounds amazing… Dean, honestly, this is... I'd love to join you," Castiel replied, looking at Dean with a bright grin. "Thank you… for letting me a part of this… I just," Castiel fingered the map, tracing the routes Dean had drawn. "Wow."

Dean was definitely blushing, Castiel noted, under the dim streetlights that dotted Castiel's neighborhood. "No problem, Cas. I'm glad you like it. You haven't read the books, right?" Dean asked.

Castiel smiled, shaking his head no as he observed the covers of each of the paperbacks. "No, I have not."

Dean smiled at that. "Good, yeah, I noticed they weren't on your bookshelf," Dean noted. "Well, anyways, there you go I guess," Dean spoke as he leaned back on his arms, looking up at the sky.

Castiel looked up, as well, noticing that the sky was dotted with hundreds of stars. "I'm being honest, by the way," Castiel murmured after a couple of minutes. "I'd love to travel with you."

Dean smiled softly to himself. "Yeah, well who knows. Maybe we will."

It was silent, and Dean's leg was still resting comfortably against Castiel's as they gazed at the night sky.

"Merry Christmas, Cas," Dean spoke softly, his voice challenging Castiel to tell him that Christmas was yesterday.

And Castiel laughed lightly, fingers running absentmindedly over the map in his hands as he counted stars.

It was a very Merry Christmas, indeed.

* * *

**Decided to give you guys a fluffy chapter since the next few will be quite painful... be prepared :D**

**OH MY GOODNESS THOUGH IM LAUGHING SO HARD. So many of you thought I'd kill off a character. oh my, dont worry everyone i'm not that cruel. Not with this fic, at least ;) can't say the same for the other one i'm currently writing. But yeah, thank you so sos osososo much for all the "get better" comments! I'm happy to say that with many vitamins and tons of sleep I've managed to tame my sore throat somewhat. So i'm feeling much better n_n thank you guys for your concern **

**AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVELY REVIEWS! Especially to those of you who write such long ones! like, oh my goodness reading them all honestly makes my day! You're all so lovely.**

**HOW ABOUT SEASON NINE THOUGH, EH? I CANNOT HANDLE IT OH MY GOODNESS. But now i've got a sudden urge to write a human!Cas fic! Should I do it?:)**

**Anyways, thank you for all the amazing support! I love you guys!**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	20. A New Year

Meg and Castiel were growing closer. During their break times at work, Castiel found that he was starting to spend less time with Jo and Ash and a lot more with the dark-haired girl. In the amount of time that he knew her, Castiel found out that Meg was a sophomore in highschool, just one year younger than him. He learned that Meg hates chocolate but loves sour candy, and by the end of their discussion on that topic, they both agreed that Twizzlers were absolute crap and should be banned from all stores.

But other than that, Castiel realized he had a lot in common with Meg.

They both lost their mother's, and they talked briefly about that before Castiel had ended the conversation, not wanting to pursue it further.

Meg also had siblings who no longer lived at home (she was the youngest, just like Castiel), and Castiel felt pure joy at the fact that he could relate to someone so easily. He talked animatedly with Meg, their topics covering basically anything and everything. They'd chat in between waiting on customers, and then later on in the day when they'd do dishes.

Castiel found out that Meg's nickname for him (Clarence) was from a movie (and book) called "It's a Wonderful Life", and before he knew it he had agreed to going over to Meg's house to see it sometime soon. The thought made his heart leap, and he realized that he had really taken a liking to Meg.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Being infatuated with Dean was heartbreaking enough. Could Castiel stand falling for two different people? But Dean and Meg were just… their situations weren't the same.

Dean was basically like an expensive want that Castiel would never be able to afford (or even be good enough to buy).

Meg was different.

Meg returned Castiel's flirtation without any sign of suddenly taking it away. Slowly but surely, Castiel realized that Meg was a more practical choice for him- that she wouldn't break his heart or keep him wondering. Despite her tough appearance, Meg was very kind.

Dean almost automatically noticed their sudden closeness.

Castiel was sitting at the bar counter with Meg, talking with her as he waited for Dean to come pick him up. They were leaned over her phone, shoulders touching as she showed him something funny she had found online.

And that's how Dean had found them, laughing and touching and leaned in very close to one another. When Castiel looked up and met Dean's eyes, he had to stop himself from pulling away from Meg too fast, moving slowly away and giving Dean a smile, which he hesitantly returned.

"I have to go," Castiel told Meg, giving her a smile as he stood up and slid his jacket on.

Meg smiled back. "I'll text you later," she promised.

Feeling his heart flutter, Castiel lingered by her for a bit, smiling in a dazed sort of manner. "And I will respond," he replied.

Meg laughed, looking over at Dean. "Well, go ahead. Your boyfriend is waiting for you," Meg told him with a sly smile.

Castiel didn't know how to respond to that, so he just gave her a wave before walking over to where Dean was standing by the door. Dean hadn't had work today, so he had spent his afternoon with Pam. Castiel almost forgot about his jealousy until he spotted the hickey on Dean's neck, barely poking out from under the collar of his jacket.

His stomach burned with envy.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel spoke with an even smile, trying to ease the tension between them. "How was your date?" He asked as they walked out the door to the Impala.

Dean gave Castiel a smile in return, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It was nice. Uh, how's Meg doing?" Dean asked, eyeing Cas as they climbed into the car.

Castiel observed Dean's face, noticing that the blond was purposefully avoiding Cas's eyes, his hand working on starting up the car.

"She's doing well," Castiel informed, looking out the window as they started to drive.

It was silent.

"So are you and Meg, like…" Dean made a hand gesture, flicking his hand to nothing really. "A thing?" He asked, looking at Castiel before looking away.

Castiel blushed, looking down at the floor of the Impala. "Uh, no, I don't think so. Well, not yet, I suppose."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, seeming more intrigued than he probably should be.

"Er, well, we are planning to see a movie at her house, if that counts as anything," Castiel admitted. He didn't want to tell, but the angrier part of him took control. He was tired of being jealous. He wanted Dean to know that he wasn't pining over him. Well, he _was, _but Castiel was trying really really hard not to._  
_

Dean's jaw stiffened, and Castiel felt hopelessly confused. Why does he care? Dean is straight- he's the one that went after Pamela. Castiel had thought that he and Dean had something, but they didn't. Dean made that very clear with the numerous amount of dates he and Pamela went on.

And Castiel was just so sick of wishing things were different.

He liked Meg, and he was going to go for it. He was going to force himself to _get over Dean._

Dean finally gave a smile, glancing at Castiel quick. "I'm happy for you, Cas," he told him.

Castiel couldn't help the way his heart sank.

_Tell me you don't want me to find other people._

_Tell me that you want me to be yours._

_For God's sake just please don't tell me that there was nothing there._

But Dean didn't say any of those things, and Castiel knew he wouldn't. He knew that all the things he had felt between Dean and him had been due to Castiel's imagination and lack of experience with making friends.

Dean was just kind. He was just a good friend.

A friend… that and nothing more.

* * *

After dropping off Castiel home, Dean went straight back to Pamela's house, calling her while he drove. His hands were shaky as he dialed the number, his heart hammering and rage in his veins. He needed a distraction. He needed to stop wanting Castiel.

After a few rings, Pamela picked up.

"Dean?" She asked, her voice seeming sleepy. Dean suddenly realized it was eleven, but he couldn't go home. He couldn't stay up all night with Castiel in his head.

"Hey, Pam. You mind if I drop by for a bit?" Dean asked, his heart pounding in his chest and body feeling like it might explode any minute.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Is everything alright, Dean?" She spoke, seeming more awake, now.

"Yeah… yeah, everything is fine. I just wanna see you," he told her, knowing he must sound ridiculous. He had just dropped her off home an hour ago.

"Alright, see you," Pamela told him, her voice sounding concerned.

And in five minutes, Dean was parked in Pamela's driveway and walking to the front door.

She opened the door before he could knock, and as she was about to speak Dean pulled her close, arms tight around her waist as he merged their bodies, kissing her like there was no tomorrow.

Pamela was shocked, but she kissed him back, twining her arms around his neck as she let him bite on her lips and move his kisses onto her neck where he sucked greedily.

"Dean- _Dean_," Pamela spoke, pushing him slightly away but keeping a grip on Dean's arm. "Inside," she told him, her blue eyes looking into Dean's. The curiosity faded away from her face and was replaced with lust as she held his hand and brought him into the house. As soon as she closed the door, Dean resumed their kissing, and Pamela laughed against his lips. "Up for another round, already?" She asked, her voice smooth and teasing as she led him to her room, parting their lips yet again. Dean didn't know how to respond, so he stayed silent and only kissed her in response after she closed and locked the door to her room.

Dean shucked off his jacket and button-up, not parting their lips for a minute as Pamela pulled him to her bed. The room was only lit by a bedside lamp, the yellow light casting shadows and filling the room with warmth. As they climbed onto the bed, Dean let Pamela pause their kissing for a second as she stripped off his shirt, and then they were back at it, lips locked like it was the only thing they knew how to do. Dean laid Pamela down, fitting easily between her legs as he ground them together, desperate for touch- desperate for a distraction. Not even a minute later, Dean had stripped Pam of her nightshirt and was now roaming his hands over her chest- kneading at her breasts and driving out wanton moans from her. Hands grasped at Dean's bare arms, nails digging into him as Dean kissed a hungry trail down Pamela's throat, tongue licking and claiming greedily.

Clothes were stripped and words were hushed yet filled with need. Limbs tangled and messy kisses were exchanged. Fingers pressed into skin and teeth bit into lips, leaving bruises and red, swollen marks. It was the most intense sex Dean had ever had, and the image of Castiel leaning towards Meg, that _stupid fucking smile on his face_, was what fueled him through it, making him grunt and bruise and claim.

Castiel liked Meg. He was going to be with Meg and Dean just could not find it in him to tell Castiel he shouldn't.

Dean was the one that dated, first.

Dean was the one that made it clear he and Castiel wouldn't be together.

Dean was the _stupid, _obsessive, and hopeless bastard that wouldn't try and get what he truly wanted.

And Dean felt rage tickle at his throat, his eyes burning as he thought of Castiel kissing Meg and touching her and _smiling at her. _He wouldn't be able to bare it. Dean would never be able to watch Castiel touch someone else like that. God damnit, _Dean wanted to be with Castiel._ If he were to see Meg kissing Cas and holding him, Dean might go through a fucking breakdown. This just couldn't be happening.

Dean realized now that he could never stop wanting Castiel. No matter how many girls he goes through, Castiel will always be the only one for him.

But he just _can't do it._

He would not be able to live with himself if Castiel said no. And even if Castiel said yes, Dean just couldn't completely ignore the standards his father had set for him. John was barely around, but he made it clear what he expected from his son. Dean couldn't do this to him. He was the oldest, he needed to be the one to please his father. He was already enough of a disappointment- he wasn't as smart as Sam or as talented. He had to work constantly to keep his B+ average, and even that wasn't good enough when Sammy would come home with all A's, their father smiling and congratulating him happily. Dean needed to put in twice the effort just to keep his father proud of him. What would John do once he came back and found out that in the short amount of time he was gone, Dean had turned gay?

He just wouldn't take it well.

And Castiel wouldn't want to be with Dean. There was no way. Even if he did, he wouldn't know what he's getting himself into. Castiel deserved better, he deserved someone who wouldn't freak out halfway through their relationship and leave him. He deserved someone who would always be there to make him laugh and smile. He deserved someone as smart and kind and fucking beautiful as him. Everyone that got to know Castiel loved him. Dean just made a lot of friends at school by pretending to be someone he's not. Castiel was good-natured, and he was so true and honest and amazing. Dean didn't deserve him.

There was also the fact that Dean was always moving. He won't be able to always be with Cas if they ended up being together. And Dean just couldn't find it in his heart to allow himself to be that selfish- to have Castiel, but only for a little while. He just couldn't do that to him (or himself, even).

So Dean kept that in mind as he grasped onto Pamela like a lifeline, their bodies merging savagely and lips parting now as climax approached.

And Dean came with a cry of a name on his lips.

Yet, it was not the name that he should have spoken.

And as Dean and Pamela both laid side by side, well spent and exhausted, she was not angry. In fact, she laughed in an amused sort of manner.

"Who's Cas?" She asked, smiling as she turned to look at Dean.

He was blushing profusely, more from embarrassment rather than exertion. "Pam, I'm so sorry," he whispered, suddenly feeling like complete and utter shit.

She still wasn't angry, though, and Dean was just waiting for her to scream and kick him out and tell him never to talk to her, again. Why the fuck wasn't she furious? "He must be pretty damn special," Pamela noted with a smirk when Dean turned around to gawk at her.

"How did you-"

"Darlin', no matter how much I might tease you, you happen to be one hell of a sight for eyes," Pamela spoke, slightly out of breath as she tried to come down from their rigorous activity. "I can hardly believe that any girl would be difficult for you to get. Now, who is he?" She asked.

Dean's mouth went dry, and he felt his heart ache. How did they manage to go from sex to talking about Dean's feelings? "No one. It's no one."

Pamela rolled her eyes, slapping Dean's arm. "Don't lie to me, Dean," she warned him. "No way that you can moan someone else's name during sex and then go on tellin' me it isn't anyone."

Dean was far more embarrassed than he could ever remember being. He sat up and sighed, leaning forward as he rested his arms on his legs. "It doesn't matter. It's never gonna happen, so it doesn't matter who it is," Dean spoke roughly.

It was silent for a moment. Then Pamela spoke. "Well it sure as hell ain't gonna happen if you don't try," she chided.

And Dean found that he had no response to that, either.

* * *

Castiel went to Charlie's house early on the last day of December to help her prepare for the party. She hadn't expected him to come over, so when she opened the door and saw him, Castiel noticed that her hair was a mess and she had an excessive amount of decorations slung over her shoulders and bunched up in her hands.

"_Cas?_" She inquired, eyes wide. "Oh, crap, what time is it?" She asked, fumbling with the decorations to check her watch. "You're really early-"

"I wanted to help," Castiel said with a smile. Charlie seemed to exhale a breath of relief.

"Oh thank _God_. I thought I was going to go mad, there's so much I still need to do," she babbled, opening the door wider to let Castiel in.

Castiel walked inside, taking all the decorations from Charlie's arms. "Where should we start?" He asked with a smile, and Charlie returned the smile, running a hand through her hair.

"In the basement. Here, let me get some thumbtacks."

After a few hours, the basement was bedazzled with food, drinks, and decorations. Castiel had hung up most of the decorations under Charlie's instruction. She had explained how she couldn't reach where she wanted to hang them, even with the assistance of a ladder. Castiel got it done exactly how she wanted, and she rewarded him with hugs and hundreds of thank-yous. They had prepared chips into bowls and scheduled to have a pizza delivered later that night. Now Charlie and Castiel were sitting on the couch talking, dining on some Chinese food Charlie had insisted to order for them.

"Will Gilda be here, tonight?" Castiel asked before taking a bite of sesame chicken.

Charlie smiled wide, nodding. "Yeah, she'll be a bit late but she's coming. By the way, how'd you get here?" Charlie asked. "I thought you were coming with Dean," she commented, twining some noodles onto the prongs of her fork.

Castiel shrugged. He didn't want to tell Charlie that he hasn't been talking to Dean much, recently. Things just seemed immensely awkward between them, and Castiel didn't want to risk fighting or intensifying the awkwardness with his friend. So he promised himself that he'd refrain from seeing Dean until the party, hoping that by then the blond would have returned to normal.

"I walked," Castiel answered.

Charlie's eyebrows furrowed. "Is everything okay between you two?" She asked.

Castiel gave her a smile. "Everything's fine. Dean's just busy, I didn't want to be a burden," Castiel lied. "So, have you got those dress pictures, yet?" Castiel asked with a playful smirk when Charlie groaned in embarrassment.

"Yes and they're _even_ _worse_ than the ones before," she revealed as she pulled out her phone. The redhead proceeded to show Castiel pictures of the pale blue dress she was forced to wear, and they both laughed about it, Castiel comforting Charlie of her mind-scarring experience.

Pretty soon, people started coming over. It was eight o'clock when Dean got there, and he gave Castiel a smile from across the room before walking over to Adam to converse with him. Castiel tried to brush off the knotting of his stomach as he stuck around Jo, talking to her about random things that came to mind. Music (selected by Charlie, herself) filled the air, and the basement was dimly lit. A game of Dance Dance Revolution was set up, and everyone enthusiastically partook in that event, complimenting Charlie on her knack with preserving the "games of their childhood". Dean was actually fairly good at the game, given his immense energy and quick movements. He had managed to beat Jo, Adam, Ash, and was now in an epic face off with Charlie.

After Dean had managed to beat her, too, he called for Castiel to come over as well, a wide smile on his face, his cheeks flushed with the workout. When Castiel refused, shaking his head no as he smiled and insisted he'd rather not, Dean came over to Castiel, grabbing his arm and giving him a smile he couldn't decline.

"C'mon, Cas," he urged, smiling wide at him as he lifted him off the couch where he had been sitting next to Gilda.

Castiel shook his head some more, getting embarrassed now. "I'm honestly no good. I'll only humiliate myself," he warned, trying not to enjoy Dean's grip too much.

"I'll go easy on ya," Dean promised with a wink. And when those green eyes looked at Castiel so pleadingly and with such an inviting aura, Castiel couldn't say no.

So with a resigned sigh, Castiel joined Dean on the sensor mats laid out in front of the TV. An upbeat song immediately started, and Castiel looked at the screen, desperately trying to keep up with the arrows that flashed in bright colors. He gathered that he looked rather foolish, because there was plenty of good natured laughing around him as he scored horribly.

After a couple of humiliating minutes, Castiel lost against Dean. There was honestly no shock to that, and Castiel had sighed in relief when the game was over, a smile on his face. Castiel thought he'd be embarrassed, but instead he began laughing uncontrollably at the sheer ridiculousness of the whole game. Confused but smiling, Dean laughed as well, slinging an arm around Castiel and leading him to the couch where they sat down with a heavy thud.

"That was pretty impressive, Cas," Dean complimented sarcastically through fits of laughter.

Castiel was still smiling wide as he poked Dean in his side. "Not everyone is a dancing queen like you, Dean," Castiel joked, making Charlie snort and everyone else burst into laughter.

Dean gawked. Then he burst out laughing with the others. "Damnit, Cas. We should've never let you watch 'Mamma Mia'," Dean joked, elbowing Castiel's arm.

Castiel only smiled, reclining into his seat. Dean was warm and sweaty beside him from the many nonstop rounds he went dancing, and Castiel found that he enjoyed the redness of Dean's cheeks and the liveliness in his eyes. He was as energetic as a child, and the pure happiness he emitted made all of Cas's worries melt away.

Soon Charlie brought them a couple of beers, and this time Castiel drank it slowly, trying not to gag and learning to adjust himself to the taste. A couple bottles later it wasn't as bad, and Castiel was actually beginning to enjoy the light feeling it gave him. He sat down next to Dean, their sides pressed together as Charlie and Gilda joined them on the couch. Castiel was thankful for the tight squeeze, because that meant he got to feel Dean's complete warmth against him.

When it was eleven, the group all gathered some sparklers, fireworks, and some drinks to bring to a hill at a park over in the next neighborhood. Charlie had apparently claimed the hill just for them so they could set off fireworks and watch fireworks that others would set off.

So they all began their trek, Castiel walking alongside Dean in the cold of the night, Charlie leading the way for everyone. It wasn't too far a walk, but they were well away from Charlie's house. Castiel had offered to carry some fireworks, and he had them tucked under his arm as he talked to Dean about a party Sam was at, tonight.

"He's at this girl's party and then he's gonna be spending the night at Andy's place. Do you remember Jess? From the movie marathon over Thanksgiving?" Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow at his friend.

Castiel feigned a thoughtful face. Of course he remembered Jessica. And last he saw of the two, they had gotten some hand holding done at the movie marathon. Castiel wondered how Sam was doing with Jessica. He'd have to ask, soon. "Jess… the blond one, right?" Castiel asked with innocently raised eyebrows.

Dean smirked. "Yeah. I'm not sure, but I think Sammy likes her. Well, actually, I'm pretty sure," Dean spoke with a cheeky, adorably proud smile.

Castiel returned the smile. "I'm happy for him. We both know he deserves to relax himself a bit," Castiel spoke. Dean nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. I just wish he'd tell me about it. I mean, I guess I know why he'd keep it secret. But, I don't know, I just want him to feel alright with tellin' me stuff like that," Dean began. "He seemed so secretive when he had me drive him there," the blonde noted.

Castiel nudged Dean comfortingly. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, Dean. I'm sure Sam will tell you once he knows it's for certain."

Dean smiled slightly at that. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he admitted. "I just feel like I haven't been paying much attention to him. Things have been so hectic," dean commented.

Castiel gave his friend a smile. "You're doing great, Dean. Sam is happy, I can assure you," Castiel promised.

The look Dean gave him was one Castiel would never forget.

Pretty soon the group had made it to the park and up the hill. It wasn't too tall, so the teens did not have any trouble climbing up it and setting up their things with enough time to waste before midnight hit. Castiel realized halfway up the hill that he had forgotten his jacket at Charlie's house, and the immense cold of the night hit him hard. He sucked it up though, not wanting to have to head back and miss the spectacle.

Castiel amused himself with the sparklers, taking plenty of pictures with everyone. He couldn't even recall the numerous amounts of "selfies" he and Jo had taken, and in most of them the flash of Jo's phone made their eyes squinty, flaunting their red noses and cheeks. The rest of Cas and Jo's horrible pictures consisted of silly faces. Jo had taken plenty of pictures of Cas and Dean also, and Castiel tried not to smile too wide at the fact that Dean's arm was around Castiel in most of them.

And when the sparklers ran out, everyone drank some beer and wine coolers as they looked through the photos they had taken, laughing hysterically at the horrible ones. There was one particular photo of Adam, Chuck and Castiel that was almost terrifyingly hilarious. Both Castiel and Adam's eyes had been bright white and blue, almost glowing from the intensity of the flash. Chuck's had been almost a strange golden color. They earned themselves plenty of 'holy angel' jokes as they tried to blink spots out of their vision. Ash later on declared jokingly that Chuck was God.

It was the first time Castiel had ever gotten properly drunk. He had to admit, he liked the feeling a lot more than he thought he would. It was fun to feel this loose with his closest friends, taking pictures and laughing at things that weren't all that funny. There were plenty of reddened lips in the pictures they took that flaunted the excessive amount of drinking everyone partook in.

Originally, Castiel had been frightened that they'd get caught drinking. He later on realized that Charlie had chosen this spot wisely, trying to prevent anyone from seeing them. Castiel hadn't seen one car or person since the group left Charlie's house. The hill was abandoned, and it was almost secluded in its spot. So, with the reassurance that Charlie had taken precaution embedded in Castiel's mind, he allowed himself to wind down.

Pretty soon everyone had calmed and were now all talking among themselves as they waited to launch the fireworks. Ash and Chuck were setting up their fireworks, and Castiel was sitting by himself as he watched them stumble with setting up the explosives. He mentally prayed for them to know what they were doing.

The next thing Castiel knew, someone had settled down at his right, a bottle of raspberry lemonade wine cooler being handed to him.

Castiel smiled, knowing instantly who it was before he turned to face Dean. "Thank you," he spoke as he accepted the bottle. Dean had a wide grin on his face, and he leaned forward, watching Ash and Chuck.

"No problem," Dean spoke before taking a swig from his bottle.

Castiel was fighting back shivers, clenching his jaw to prevent his teeth from chattering. He gazed at Dean in the dark of the night, only the moon providing its dull white light to grant Castiel the gift of observing Dean's angelic features. Dean looked calm and resolved, and truly happy. His eyes were softened, reflecting the light of the moon, and a soft smile was on Dean's lips. Castiel suddenly wondered what Dean was thinking about, and he felt his gut burn when he realized that it was probably Pamela.

Suddenly, Dean looked over at Castiel, catching him in his gazing. Their eyes locked for an eerie amount of time- it must have been thirty seconds, at least. It seemed natural and calming, though. Searching through Dean's eyes and speaking to him through their gaze seemed almost normal. When they broke it, Dean looked Castiel up and down before looking into his eyes again. The blond finally spoke.

"Aren't you cold?" He asked, his voice neutral but still undertoned with concern that Castiel learned to detect.

Castiel shrugged, trying to unlock his arms from around himself but finding he was unable to. "I forgot my j-jacket at Charlie's," Castiel spoke, his voice stiff from trying to keep his jaw from shaking. The dark-haired teen mentally slapped himself for stuttering, but it was already very hard to prevent his teeth from chattering when he wasn't doing anything, let alone trying to speak. The muscles in his face were tightened, seeming to spasm on their own, no matter what Castiel tried to do about it.

Dean's eyes seemed worried, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked Castiel up and down, again, seeming to debate with himself. The next thing Castiel knew, Dean's face had gone strangely decided. He suddenly put down his bottle next to him and was shrugging off his jacket (it was his navy blue cargo one). In less than a second, Dean was handing it to Castiel. "Here," he spoke, offering it kindly.

Castiel's couldn't help but let his eyes widen. "Dean, no, it's fine. I'm alright, it's-" he tried to protest.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Just take it, Cas. Don't make me force it on you," Dean warned.

Blushing, Castiel looked from the jacket back to Dean, who seemed to be trying not to look into Castiel's eyes. He decided it'd be best not to speak as he accepted the jacket, putting down his own bottle and sliding on the warm material. He was shivering freely now with the sudden body heat change. "T-thanks," Castiel stuttered, wrapping his arms around himself. He felt slightly dizzy, and whether it was from the alcohol or the scent on Dean's jacket, Castiel had no idea. Maybe it was both.

Dean smiled, picking up his bottle again as he took another sip. "No problem. Jesus Cas, you're gonna get yourself killed one day," Dean joked.

Castiel laughed, the action sounding pathetically weak and breathless. "N-not when I've got you around," Castiel pointed out.

Dean smiled wider as he glanced at his friend, then back at Ash and Chuck. "Yeah, that's true."

Castiel looked over at Dean again, observing him. He almost instantly noticed the goosebumps that rose on Dean's arms. "Won't you get cold?" Castiel asked, suddenly feeling awful. He should've brought his own jacket.

Dean waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, I'm still warm from all that DDR. It's all good, Cas. Don't worry," Dean assured.

Eyeing his friend warily, Castiel nodded. He wanted to return the jacket, but he found that a huge part of him strongly yet secretly protested against that action. Castiel was freezing, and Dean's jacket was more than warm and inviting.

It was silent for a moment.

"What's your New Year's resolution, Cas?" Dean asked suddenly, glancing at his friend.

Castiel was struck speechless at the question. He honestly hadn't given it much thought. So he pursed his lips as he picked up his bottle (now that his fingers were capable of moving). "I'm not sure. I would like to change who I am," Castiel mused. "Well, I am completely different than I was last year. But… I'd like to make myself a better person. I want to go through life knowing that there's something worth it, rather than just going through the motions to please my father. I want to focus on myself, more," Castiel admitted, blushing at the honesty of his statement.

But Dean only smiled, no judgements showing on his face. "I think that's a great idea," Dean assured. "Just… don't change too much, alright? I'm all for you focusing on what you want, but other than that…" Dean shrugged. "Just don't change," Dean repeated. He seemed as if he wanted to say so much more, but he didn't.

Castiel felt his body warm, despite the biting cold of the air around him. He smiled, his heart fluttering to his throat with happiness. "Thank you, Dean," Castiel spoke softly, looking away from his friend and down at the bottle in his hand as he tried to stop himself from smiling. "How about you?" Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged. "I want to be more honest," he spoke simply. The words seemed to hold some deeper meaning, and Castiel gazed at Dean, waiting for him to explain himself.

When he didn't, Castiel spoke. "I think you're very honest, Dean," Castiel protested.

The blonde smirked bitterly. "Yeah, not as much as you'd think. I swerve around situations that would get me to tell what I'm really thinking. I just wanna be honest to myself and… I don't know, everyone I guess."

Castiel was confused, but he nodded. "That's a nice thing to work on," he commented, looking up at the moon.

It was silent, again. Castiel listened to the light conversation around him, slowly relaxing despite the frigid air that enveloped the night.

"Cas?" Dean inquired, his voice small and hesitant.

Castiel looked over at Dean. The blond looked into Castiel's eyes, then shied away, looking at his jeans as his fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Castiel suddenly felt worried as he sat up straighter, staring at Dean intently. "Is something wrong?" Castiel asked, eyebrows furrowed with apprehension.

Dean seemed to curl into himself slightly, trying to look small. "Uh, no, nothing's wrong. I- uh, just wanted to tell you something," Dean began.

When he didn't continue, Castiel urged him on. "Tell me what?" He asked.

Dean licked his lips, his fingers fiddling restlessly with his shirt. "Uhm, well, I acutally- uh, I kinda wanted to say this for a while," Dean admitted, looking nervous. "Uh, but I'm not really sure how to-"

"T-minus ten seconds, everyone!" Charlie called out, interrupting Dean from what he was about to say.

Instantly, everyone began counting down as Chuck and Ash prepared a match to light the fireworks. Castiel wanted desperately to know what Dean wanted to say- he had looked so dismayed when he had been interrupted. But, when the blond teen didn't show any sign of continuing, Castiel resignedly joined everyone in their countdown.

The firework show was brilliant, and (thankfully) there were no injuries. Castiel watched as the colored sparks of light filled the sky, and he found that he was almost leaning into Dean as he watched the spectacle. Dean didn't move, so Castiel decided that it was alright. He was probably grateful for the body heat, since Castiel had taken his jacket.

Castiel's heart leaped with surprise when Dean returned the gesture, leaning back into Castiel with a little more force than Castiel had done. He tried to ignore the intimate act, telling himself that it was just cold and they were keeping one another warm.

But, well, when Castiel is as head over heels for Dean as he is, it gets hard to ignore the flutter of hope he felt.

So Castiel tamed the pounding of his heart and the heat in the pit of his belly, and instead embedded the feel of Dean into his memory. He took note of everything- the smoothness of the cold glass bottle in his hand (raspberry lemonade, just like Dean had given him all those weeks ago), the press of Dean's arm and side and leg, the way Dean's arm was propped behind him, positioned behind Castiel, the smell and fabric of Dean's warm jacket and how dizzy he felt when he'd shift slightly and be overcome with the scent of Dean's Impala and cologne and shampoo.

He kept it all in mind as he watched as the last of Chuck and Ash's fireworks burst in the sky. The show didn't end there, though, because hundreds of fireworks from all around flew into the air, as well, determined to give the group of teens a longer show.

And Castiel was content with that. The longer he could spend next to Dean like this, the better.

Charlie and Gilda kissed as the fireworks went off, and Castiel smiled to himself, happy for his friends. He also happened to notice that Adam and Jo had been sitting together throughout the night, and he raised an eyebrow as he realized that those two had been around each other all night.

"Dean," Castiel commented, speaking low so that only he could hear.

Dean suddenly looked at Castiel's face, seeming as if Castiel had interrupted him from deep thinking. "Yeah?" Dean asked, searching Castiel's eyes intently.

Castiel nodded his head over to Jo and Adam, noticing that the two almost looked to be holding hands subtly. "Did you notice…" Castiel began, looking over at Dean and raising an eyebrow.

A bright smile instantly overtook Dean's features, an astonished laugh escaping him. "Well I'll be damned. I didn't see that one coming," Dean admitted, sitting up straighter, the action moving him away from Castiel slightly.

Castiel laughed, as well. "When do you think they'll tell us?" Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged, still smiling as he gazed at Jo happily (almost like an older brother would look at his younger sister). "I don't know. Soon, probably. I mean, they won't be able to keep it secret for long."

Castiel nodded. "I wonder how long it's been going on," he mused.

Dean shrugged, again. "I dunno. Probably not too long," he commented before looking up at the fireworks that still lit the sky.

Suddenly, Castiel remembered that Dean had been interrupted earlier. "Dean, what was it you wanted to tell me?" Castiel asked before he could convince himself not to say anything about it.

Dean suddenly tensed, looking at Castiel in a startled manner before looking away. "Uh," he began, flustered. He seemed to think to himself for a bit before he relaxed and spoke. "I was just gonna say thanks for giving me a chance back when we first met," Dean spoke. "I know I wasn't that great to you at first- I mean, with hanging out with Alastair and all- but I'm glad you let me get to know you," Dean spoke, smiling.

Castiel blinked, not sure what to say. "Dean…" he managed. "That's not true," he protested. "You've done so much for me, and Alastair doesn't ruin that fact. I should be thanking you," Castiel added with a smile that made Dean the speechless one.

He suddenly smiled back, looking up at the last of the fireworks. Dean let their arms touch again as he watched the fireworks. Castiel gazed at Dean's face, highlighted by reds and blues and greens. When he was beginning to think Dean wouldn't respond, the blond spoke.

"This is gonna sound cheesy as hell, but I'm really glad I met you, Cas. All of you guys," Dean admitted. He didn't look at Castiel, but the blue-eyed teen noticed Dean's thoughtful face. "I never really had any friends, before. I'd move too much, so I never really tried, y'know? You're actually the first person I can call my friend."

Castiel smiled wide, proud of being so close to Dean. It felt like an accomplishment- to be the best friend of someone so amazing and brilliant. "Same goes for you," Castiel replied, eyes meeting Dean's when he turned to look at Castiel. The dark-haired teen smiled again, and Dean returned it.

The rest of the firework show commenced in a comfortable silence, mind the explosions of color in the sky.

* * *

Dean had almost told Castiel his true feelings.

He had prepared himself for it, gathering up all his courage and realizing that tonight was the best night to do it. They were alone (mostly), it was dark and Castiel was wearing Dean's jacket and the moon made his blue eyes glow so fucking beautifully and they were so close to each other and everything was just perfect. It was a new year (or, it was going to be when Dean wanted to say it) and Dean had told Castiel how he wanted to be more truthful and honest and _damnit_, why did midnight have to come right at that moment?

As soon as everyone began counting down and lighting fireworks, Dean had felt all the courage he had summoned suddenly disappear, as if it were never there in the first place. It was an awful feeling, and Dean automatically felt discouraged.

What was he thinking?

He could have ruined everything.

He could have lost Castiel that night just because he couldn't contain how much he wants to fucking be with him.

Dean would need to be more careful.

But now nothing was stopping him from wanting to tell. Pamela and Dean had mutually broken up, agreeing with one another that their relationship had ended up being more physical than anything else. Pamela still texted Dean to check up on him, and that made him feel a lot better about being a complete dick and basically using her the other night. She was the one that had urged Dean to tell Cas how he felt.

And when Castiel had asked Dean what he was going to say, Dean completely chickened out.

His heart had been hammering when he was about to tell him. He felt nauseous and sick and it felt as though giant butterflies were fluttering inside him, lifting his heart up to his tightened throat. It was downright scary- probably the scariest thing he'd ever had to do.

And it ended up being for nothing.

Dean was cold almost five minutes after giving Castiel his jacket, but he didn't say anything. It just looked _so_ _nice _on Castiel, Dean didn't want him to take it off. And when Castiel had leaned against Dean, the blond almost found the courage to try and tell Castiel, again. But, instead, he leaned back into his friend, savoring the warmth and smell of Castiel. He had grown so accustomed to it- the smell was almost embedded in his brain. It was a calming yet dizzying scent that Dean had grown addicted to.

Dean had hoped Castiel would never take off Dean's jacket. And, when they all got back to Charlie's house, he didn't. That had made Dean's heart flutter pathetically. And the "eyebrow-raised with a side of smirking" look Jo gave him didn't help, much.

Jo had admitted to Dean that she and Adam were dating.

They were side by side preparing some finger foods and sandwiches in Charlie's kitchen when Jo told him, a bright smile on her face. Dean had laughed and hugged her, congratulating her with a smile on his face. Adam was a really nice guy, and Dean knew he'd be good to Jo. She explained how he had asked her out a couple of days ago.

Then the topic of Castiel had come up.

"So I noticed you and Cas were pretty lovey dovey back at the hill," Jo noted, smiling. "Did you tell him?" She asked.

Dean felt his face burn up with embarrassment. "Uh, no. I didn't," Dean informed her, working on preparing sandwiches.

Jo's jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. "_What? _Why?" She asked, astounded. Then she put her hands on her hips. "Is it because you're still dating Pamela?" She accused.

Dean rolled his eyes, the task of sandwich-making completely forgotten. "No, Jo. We- uh, we broke up," he told her. "A while ago, actually."

Jo looked even more astounded than before. "Why did you break up?" She asked, honestly curious.

Dean blushed. "Uh, well… I'd rather not talk about it," he murmured.

"Dean," Jo spoke suspiciously. "What did you do?"

If it were possible for him to get redder, he did. "Uh, well… I kinda- uh… said Cas's name during sex," Dean admitted fast, looking away from Jo as he worked busily on the sandwiches.

He could almost hear Jo's jaw drop and eyes widen. "_Dean, oh my God!_" She exclaimed. "Holy shit- what did she say? What did she _do?_"

Dean felt hot- like he wanted to jump in a pool of ice water. "Uh- well, it kinda happened at… the end… like, _the end,_" Dean hinted. When Jo snorted, he gathered that she understood. "Pam actually… she wasn't mad. She actually laughed. And, well, she's been encouraging me to ask Cas out," Dean admitted. It felt good to tell Jo all of this- the events that had occurred recently had been almost overwhelming.

Jo suddenly laughed. "Okay- I'm sorry- but you said Cas's name when you _came?_" Jo asked, still thoroughly amused by that bit of information.

Dean blushed, rolling his eyes. "That's not the freaking point, Jo," Dean snapped.

"Alright, alright- sorry," Jo spoke, lifting her hands as she smiled. "It's just news to me," Jo defended. "Alright- so getting back to Cas- why didn't you ask him out tonight?" Jo asked, getting serious, again. "I mean, it seemed like… I don't know, like you two were already together. I thought..." Jo trailed off with a shrug.

Dean took a deep breath. "I was going to, Jo. I even started to. But then the whole countdown thing happened when I was about to say it and afterwards when Castiel asked what I was going to say I chickened out. I just- I can't do it, Jo," Dean admitted, distressed. He felt like complete crap, his shoulders slumped and arms at his sides, palms facing forward as if awaiting a miracle.

Jo actually looked sympathetic as she looked at Dean. "You have to _try_, Dean," she told him, eyebrows furrowed desperately.

"But what if he doesn't feel the same?" Dean asked, wanting to slap himself at how pathetic he sounded. "What the hell will I do, then?"

Jo sighed. "Dean, I honestly doubt he doesn't like you," she told him. When Dean still looked dismayed, she continued. "If you want I could ask him?"

Dean shook his head. "No, that's- don't. If I'm going to do this it's going to be me," Dean told her.

Jo gave him a smile. "I know he'll say yes, Dean. I promise you he will."

Not knowing how to respond, Dean just continued preparing food. When it was ready, Dean and Jo made their way to Charlie's basement.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Castiel seemed exhausted, but when he caught sight of Dean his eyes brightened, alcohol-reddened lips stretching into a smile. Dean had returned the smile, unable to contain himself. They ended up sitting together, dining on some sandwiches and water (Dean didn't want Castiel's hangover to be too bad). Everyone was still pretty drunk, and they all agreed to lay off the drinks for the rest of the night.

Once it reached two in the morning, Castiel had fallen asleep at Dean's side. The rest of the group was fast asleep, as well. Suddenly, Cas's head lolled onto Dean's shoulder, and the blond teen remained still, trying to relax his shoulder to make it as comfortable as possible. Castiel was still wearing Dean's jacket, and for a moment it almost felt as though they really were going out.

Dean quickly corrected his fantasies. Cas was just his friend.

Well, at least for now.

Dean felt lightheaded with the thought of telling Castiel how he feels. It'd have to wait, for a bit. Dean wasn't ready- not yet. He had only recently come to terms with the fact that he liked Castiel. If he didn't ease into this, Dean would panic and ruin everything.

But he'd tell him soon. He would definitely tell him soon. Who knows, maybe Castiel will say yes. _Maybe all this worrying will be for nothing_, Dean thought as he laid Castiel down and draped a blanket over him, positioning himself at Castiel's feet where he crossed his arms and tried to calm his frantic thoughts. He needed to do this. He needed to try. It could be possible.

Hell, it was a new year after all.

* * *

**Finished editing :D**

**THANKYOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! You are all so lovely!**

**And oh my goodness a lot of you guys said this story has made you cry/ have bad relapses :((( fuck fuck i'm so incredibly sorry I didn't mean for that to happen at all! Stay happy, you're all amazing and lovely and just be happy, okay?**

**Thankyou so much for the support!**

**Next chapter will be angsty, so be prepared.**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


	21. Stay Away

The days came and went, and by the fourth of January Castiel was actually praying for school to start, again. He still had three more days to go, though, and Castiel tried not to be too upset about that thought. Dean had gone slightly distant, again, just like he always does whenever the two seem to get close. It wasn't a bad distant, though (well, not as bad as usual). They still talked and laughed and joked but it seemed like Dean's heart wasn't in it- like he was in a different place.

And Castiel couldn't help but feel like absolute crap. He was tired of the rollercoaster emotions Dean put him through. Castiel was tired of feeling like maybe he had a chance and then having to second guess himself the next day.

It was too much for him to handle.

So Castiel just read books and worked at the diner, busying himself every second he's awake so he won't think of Dean. He ended up going to Meg's house on the second of January, and they watched "It's A Wonderful Life". Castiel turned out thoroughly enjoying the movie, and it may or may not have been for the fact that throughout most of it, Meg and Cas were holding hands, sitting close to one another on the couch of her living room. Meg's father was gone, and it had just been them in the quiet house.

They hadn't done anything, though. Meg knew that Castiel was new with this whole thing, and she seemed to respect that. It almost shocked Castiel, if he was going to be completely honest with himself. Meg had proved to be a lot more caring than she had originally led on, and Castiel soon realized that he had brought that out of her. Meg still teased and joked around with Ash and Jo, but when it came to Castiel the teasing was not nearly as intense, and she seemed to grow very fond of him.

Jo noticed and confronted Castiel about it. She didn't seem as happy for him as Castiel thought she'd be, and that confused him. But later on she had just given Castiel a smile, telling him she's happy he's happy.

So Castiel allowed himself to slowly grow closer to Meg. His imaginary relationship with Dean was just never going to happen, and Castiel told himself that he needed to move on. Meg was his closest friend, besides Dean. Castiel ended up telling her things that Dean didn't even know. He told her a lot about his mother and his siblings and basically just anything that came to his mind. It was easy to talk to Meg, and she talked back, telling Castiel things in return.

Day by day, their bond grew closer. Soon she traded in the nickname Clarence for "Unicorn". Well, Meg still liked to call Castiel Clarence, but she had said that now that Castiel knew what it meant it wasn't as fun to say. When Castiel had scrunched up his nose at his new nickname, it sent Meg into fits of laughter. And when he asked her to explain it, she had blushed (something he'd never seen her do) and refused to tell him, later on teasing him about something trivial to change the topic of their conversation.

Castiel still felt pangs of sadness whenever he thought of Dean. He still wished (in a rather lost cause sort of manner) that maybe Dean did have feelings for Cas. But as the days went by and the text messages and calls lessened, so did Castiel's hope.

Castiel loved being around Meg. She was kind and funny and Castiel slowly began to accept that he wouldn't mind if their friendship progressed into something more.

And that's what happened.

On the night of the fourth, Meg and Castiel were in the kitchen washing dishes after closing time. Dean was going to be picking up Castiel at eleven where they would then go to Dean's house for a movie night, so he the dark-haired teen volunteered to wash dishes with Meg to kill time. For the past few days, Castiel had been debating with himself over what he should do with his relationship with Meg. It had driven him insane until he finally decided to just let what happens happen. He wouldn't try to want or control anything, anymore. He'd just take a leap in the dark and let fate make the choices.

No matter what (or whom) it may choose.

Castiel must have been really silent, because Meg sounded concerned when she spoke to him.

"Cas?" She asked, interrupting him from his thoughts. Castiel turned to look at Meg, blue eyes meeting with dark brown ones. "You okay?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel nodded, smiling. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just thinking," he assured her as he finished with the last of his dishes.

"You sure?" Meg asked. "You've seemed kinda…" Meg shrugged. "Distant or whatever," she admitted as she focused on cleaning to avoid Cas's eyes. Castiel felt a strong sensation of irony. Now he was doing to Meg what Dean had been doing to him for so long.

He wasn't going to let that happen.

"I've been thinking about us," Castiel revealed, looking at the suds that covered Meg's hands as she put away the last of the dishes. He looked into Meg's eyes as she dried her hands.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she suddenly smirked. "In what way?" She asked in a inquisitive tone.

Castiel smiled, averting his gaze to the ground. "Uh- a good way, I suppose," he reassured.

Meg put her hands on her hips, the ever present smirk of amusement plastered on her lips. "Is this your way of asking me out?" She asked teasingly, making Castiel blush.

Castiel worked his bottom lips between his teeth. He tried to get the thought of Dean out of his head. He tried to tell himself that this was his chance to move on. "It is," Castiel replied, looking into Meg's eyes, again.

Meg's smirk faded away and was replaced with a look of surprise. Suddenly, she smiled. It was a genuine smile, no teasing behind it. The brunette advanced forward slowly, and put her arms around Castiel's neck.

Castiel's heart began to race, and he gazed into Meg's eyes as she looked up at him, her smile fainter. "I accept, Unicorn," she replied smoothly, her voice alluring.

Castiel found that he couldn't reply, though. He was too focused on the closeness of Meg- the press of her arms on his neck and the warmness her body provided him. They both leaned in, and right as their lips were about to touch, Castiel pulled back slightly, a blush on his cheeks.

"Meg, I- I don't," he stuttered, not sure what to say. He wanted this, he really did. But… he just didn't know how.

Meg's eyebrows furrowed as her arms unlocked from around Castiel, her hands pressing at the back of his neck, now. "Have you never kissed anyone, Cas?" She asked. Her voice wasn't teasing, it was genuinely curious and a bit surprised.

Castiel shook his head, his heart pounding. "I haven't," he replied, his throat feeling tight. Why was he so nervous?

Meg's eyes widened slightly. "Cas, if this is going to be your first kiss then we don't have to," Meg reassured, pulling away slightly.

"No," Castiel protested, his hands finding their way to Meg's side. "No, I… I want to," he told her, looking from her lips back to her eyes. Did he want to?

Yes. He did. He craved the intimate touch, he needed this to happen. He needed Meg.

The brunette still seemed hesitant. "Are you sure you want me to take that from you?" She asked, but she seemed to be resolved with what _she_ wanted, her arms twining back around Castiel's neck in a secure lock that served as a signed contract for what was to come.

Castiel nodded. "Yes. I'm sure."

Meg looked into Castiel's eyes a bit longer before her gaze moved south and she rose upward. Castiel leaned down to meet her, going by instinct.

And it happened like that. The first touch of their lips was like an electric shock to Castiel's nerves, tingling and buzzing travelling from his lips to the tips of his fingers and down to his toes. Meg's lips were soft, and they caressed Castiel softly, merging into him with a comfortable pressure. It was a nice feeling, and once it was over, Castiel leaned back in, his arms tightening around Meg's waist as he advanced, physically begging for more.

Meg gave it to him. She took in Castiel's aggression, swallowing his need with heavy, intimate kisses. They parted their lips for a breath, and then Castiel was back in, kissing Meg as if he'd die without her lips, sucking and pressing and merging. It was all awkward, inexperienced with clinking of teeth and slips of their lips. But Castiel enjoyed it, soon getting the rhythm and kissing Meg with more practiced, circular motions.

When Meg reached out her tongue to wet Castiel's lips, Castiel did the same, deepening their kiss. It was clumsy and rushed and needy again, but overall it was the best thing Castiel had ever experienced.

And the best part was that it drove away thoughts of Dean.

* * *

Dean greeted Jo with a rushed "hello" as he hustled into the diner, making his way over to her as he leaned against the booth she was cleaning. She had given him a smile in return as she put away her rag she was using to wipe down the table.

"D'you know where Cas is?" Dean asked as he followed her to the reception desk, looking around.

Jo raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. "You going to ask him, tonight?" She countered, completely changing the subject when she noticed Dean's antsy behavior.

Dean blushed, his heart suddenly launching to his throat. "I'm planning on it," he decided to answer, telling himself that Jo already knows so it was fine to tell. It actually felt good to let the news off his chest- he'd been freaking out all day about it. He could barely focus at work and found that he was even daydreaming and worrying himself as he drove to the diner. "He's coming over for a movie… I'm gonna try, but I won't make any promises," Dean elaborated.

Jo smiled brightly, excited by the news. "I'm sure it'll go great, Dean. He's in the back- here, I'll walk you there," she insisted, knowing very well that Dean was a lot more nervous than he let on.

Dean smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Jo," he replied. They made their way to the back, making light talk about how Jo's day went. Dean's nerves began to calm right in time for when they made it to the back room and opened the door.

Then the whole world seemed to stop.

Castiel was kissing Meg.

His arms were tight around her waist and they were pressed flush against one another and Meg's hands were in Castiel's hair, bunching up the dark locks as they kissed passionately.

And Dean felt his breath catch and his knees weaken, all the blood in his body suddenly going cold.

Meg and Castiel had parted their lips with shock when Dean and Jo had walked in, placing a foot of space between them as they gazed at their intruders with shock. But Dean had seen it all. And from the silence in the room, he gathered Jo had, too.

But, bless her, Jo quickly recovered from her slack-jawed reaction, giving an awkward smile as she laughed nervously. "Were we interrupting?" She asked, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing, like it was every day when she saw the heart of Dean Winchester completely shatter at her side.

Castiel was blushing profusely, and Meg (for once) just seemed too embarrassed to answer. So Castiel did the talking (or, well, stuttering).

"Uh- er, no. Sorry, we- uh, well," he stammered, looking anywhere but into his friends' eyes.

It was awkwardly silent, and Dean just prayed for this all to end. He wanted so badly to close his eyes and then open them to the darkness of his room, finding out it was all just a horrible, stupid nightmare.

But every time he blinked and returned from the red barrier of his eyelids, he was still in the kitchen of Ellen's diner, looking at Castiel and Meg, both of whom had very red lips and very messy hair.

And Dean tried not to break down right there. He tried to will his mouth to close and his stiffened body to move. Dean tried to ignore the aching pounding of his heart and the ringing in his ears. Now was not the time. Now was so not the time.

So Dean licked his lips and loosened his tense muscles, trying to seem nonchalant. He knew he had to speak. The responsibility weighed on him, and no matter how much he didn't want to, he did. "Uh, ready to go, Cas?" He asked, his voice strained.

Castiel met Dean's eyes, staring at him before he nodded and the two teens bid farewells to Jo and Meg as they walked out, leaving the thick and awkward atmosphere behind.

Dean's legs felt like lead underneath him, and it almost took all his effort to drag his body to the waiting Impala. Castiel was silent beside him as they walked, and Dean couldn't find it in him to make small talk. Everything just seemed so pointless at that moment. All he wanted to do now was lay under the sheets of his bed and wallow in his own misery.

But Dean knew he couldn't. He'd have to pretend like everything is okay and take Castiel to his house so they can watch their movie. He'd have to ask about Meg with a smile on his face and give Castiel a pat on his back and tell him that he's happy for him. He'd have to bite his tongue and pretend it's not killing him when he sees Castiel and Meg together, again.

And, damnit, Dean was not strong enough for this.

There was no way he could pretend he's happy when it feels like he's dead inside.

* * *

Castiel was shocked when Dean still brought him to his house. In the turn of events, earlier, Castiel had almost forgotten they had planned to watch a movie together.

Dean's phone had buzzed with messages throughout the drive, but Dean didn't show any sign of noticing it. The car ride was completely silent- no music or eye contact whatsoever- and Castiel couldn't help but feel he had done something horribly wrong.

But why would Dean be mad? What was so bad about Castiel kissing Meg? Dean had said he was happy for him all those days ago, so why was he so quiet, now?

For God's sake, wasn't Dean's New Year's Resolution to be honest?

The feel of Meg's kisses still tingled on Castiel's lips, and he couldn't help but think back to that moment in the kitchen. It had been really nice, up until the interruption. The look on Jo and Dean's faces had almost scared Castiel.

What was so wrong with him kissing Meg? Hadn't they seen it coming? Jo had certainly commented on it, as did Dean. They should have known this was going to happen, why were they so surprised? Why did they seem so shocked? Why did Jo stare at Castiel as if he had committed an unforgivable crime?

Did they not like Meg? Did they know something about her that Castiel didn't? And if so, then why didn't they tell him in the first place?

What the hell was going on?

Dean turned to give Castiel a quick, stiff smile before opening the door to the Impala. Castiel followed suit and walked into Dean's house, trailing behind him, his eyes zeroed in on the tense stature of Dean's shoulders. The house was empty- Sam had gone over to Andy's house so Dean and Castiel were completely alone. They made their way to the living room, and Castiel couldn't help but stay frozen in the entrance of it, watching Dean as his hands shook and fumbled with a DVD, unable to get it open.

"Dean," Castiel spoke, his voice hoarse.

The blond didn't respond, still working on opening the DVD, his head bowed as his fingers became more frantic.

"Dean," Castiel called out again, louder this time. Dean didn't respond. "_Dean_," Castiel practically shouted, his own body tense and weak at the sight of Dean fumbling with such a simple task.

Dean threw the DVD onto the table with a loud clang that probably broke it as he turned to look at Cas, his eyes glaring and his chest puffed with rage.

"_What?_" He snapped, voice ice cold and filled with bitterness.

Castiel realized his hands were balled into fists at his side as he remained in his spot in the doorway, looking into Dean's eyes from the large amount of space between them. "What's the matter with you?" He couldn't help but utter, his voice sad and confused and desperate.

Dean's jaw clenched visibly, and he seemed even angrier. "I think I should be asking _you _that," Dean replied, advancing a step but stopping in his tracks. He licked his lips and looked Castiel up and down before continuing. "Honestly, Cas, what the hell? I mean, _Meg?_ Are you _serious?_" He spoke in an astonished tone.

Castiel felt rage coil within him. "You don't even know her, Dean," Castiel hissed, his eyes warning Dean not to go further.

Dean gave a bitter laugh. "Well, neither do _you._ You've known her for, what, a fucking _month?_" Dean guessed. "And the next thing I know you're making out with her in a kitchen like she's your fucking long lost lover," Dean ranted.

Castiel's jaw dropped, his heart aching from Dean's words. Why was he being so mean? Castiel hadn't done anything wrong! Dean had encouraged him to go for Meg, so why the hell was he mad at Castiel for kissing her? Deciding against pointing this all out, Castiel took a deep breath before he spoke calmly.

"Meg has been kind to me, Dean. She's as close to me as you or the others are, and it doesn't matter how long I've known her. You _know _it doesn't matter- I've only known _you _for a few months," Castiel spoke logically, hoping to tame Dean's anger.

It was to no avail. Dean was still lament with rage. "What do you even see in her, anyways?" He asked, glaring. "I doubt she even cares about you- not as much as Jo or I or the others do," Dean fumed. "Just because someone is nice to you doesn't mean that you can take them to the back of a kitchen and make out with them just for the hell of it!"

Castiel felt horribly cold and sick. His heart was swelling and his throat was tight and he couldn't even remember how to speak, for a moment. All his energy was focused on not crumbling down and breaking into his approaching anxiety attack. Castiel's ears rang and his blood pounded and _he just couldn't swallow down enough air to stop the dizziness. _"Why do you even care who I'm with?" Castiel found himself asking in a weak voice.

Dean froze, his eyes widening with shock at the question. This time, Dean didn't speak. He didn't have anything to say to that.

That's when it all hit him.

Dean _does _care. Dean does want to be with him- that was the only explanation for this argument. Castiel was hit so hard with this realization that he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. The constant touching- the smiles and the rides to school and work and the way Dean would let their legs touch and walk Castiel to class and _it was all just so obvious._

And Dean was just speechless in front of him, his eyes going from Castiel to the floor. He didn't speak. He didn't move.

So Castiel did it for him.

He found that his body was moving itself to Dean almost robotically, as if it had a mind of its own. Castiel murmured Dean's name, trying to get him to look up when he finally reached him. And when Dean did, they were less than a few inches away from each other. Dean's eyes were soft, now, the shades of green making Castiel's heart warm. His lips were parted in shock of their sudden closeness, and Castiel found that he couldn't make himself listen to the voice in his head that told him to put five feet of space between them _right now_. He understood everything now, and he wanted this so bad and _maybe Dean did, too_. Maybe this was meant to be all along.

And that's when Castiel grabbed Dean's face in his hands and kissed him.

Dean was shocked against Castiel, but after a few seconds he kissed him back, motionless except for leaning his face to Castiel and moving his lips with slight hesitance that soon melted into acceptance.

It was better than the kiss Castiel had with Meg. As the previous one had sent a jolt of electricity, this one burned with passion and tingled Castiel all over, making his brain turn to mush and his insides melt and _oh God was this actually happening?_

Dean's lips molded into Castiel's perfectly, and it seemed as though they were made for each other, the sliding of their lips against one another's just too perfect. And Castiel leaned in close, wanting to take as much as he can- wanting to show Dean how much he cared. He memorized every detail. He memorized the taste on Dean's lips- sweet and almost intoxicating. He memorized the little sounds their kissing would make and the curve of Dean's lower lip as it slid between Castiel's, his tongue tracing it shyly before he pressed harder into Dean. Every sensation- every little bit that seemed so unimportant was so valuable to Castiel. It almost seemed too good to be true.

And it was.

Dean's hands were suddenly flat on Castiel's chest, pushing him away roughly. And just like that, Dean's lips were gone and Castiel was now looking at a face of pure fear and confusion, green eyes wide and kiss-slick mouth agape. All at once, Castiel's world seemed to shatter around him- the ground crumbling to nothing underneath his feet.

"_What the hell-_" Dean exclaimed, taking a step back and staring at Castiel almost accusingly as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

Castiel's throat went dry, shock stilling his breathing and squeezing his pounding heart. "Dean, I-"

"Who the hell do you think I am, Cas?!" Dean exclaimed, seeming panicked. He was shaking, looking at Castiel up and down frantically. "I'm not a fucking _fag_," Dean suddenly exclaimed, his fists clenched as he advanced on Castiel, backing the dark-haired teen up.

Castiel felt like hiding- he felt like rewinding everything and changing what he just did. No, no, no, no this was not supposed to happen. "I-Oh my God, Dean, I'm sor-"

"Just stay away from me," Dean hissed, looking at Castiel with sudden hatred.

Castiel backed away, searching Dean's eyes frantically. No. This could not be happening- it just couldn't. "Dean, _please_," Castiel suddenly begged, only to earn a glare in return.

"I said _stay away_," Dean commanded coldly, his voice rising into a shout as he advanced forward in warning.

Castiel swallowed back the lump in his throat before backing away more, his eyes fixed on Dean's. Fighting back the urge to cry, Castiel found his voice.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he whispered, searching Dean's eyes again, trying to look for some chance that he could fix this. But Dean just gazed back at Castiel, running his tongue over his lips before drawing them into a straight line, his eyes set.

And then Castiel was out the door, the biting cold of the winter weather nothing in comparison to the coldness that grasped at his very soul.

* * *

Dean didn't know what happened. One moment he was angry and yelling and the next Castiel was kissing him, his hands warm on Dean's cheeks and his lips soft against his own. Dean had freaked out. He'd thought about Castiel kissing Meg so freely- without a care, almost. And Dean couldn't help but panic when he thought that _maybe Castiel was just using him._

Castiel had seen Dean's jealousy. He felt bad for him and he thought that kissing him would make it better. Why else would he go from kissing Meg to Dean all in one night?

Dean was just so angry and confused and upset and _broken_. He just wasn't ready for all these terrible, gut-twisting emotions. It was too much. At first, he thought things were going well. He was going to tell Cas, tonight. Dean had planned it- Sam was out at Andy's and Dean was going to play a movie and he was going to build up the courage to finally tell him.

Then he realized how stupid he must have been when he saw Cas and Meg. Castiel loved her, Dean could tell. He could tell from the way he held her and kissed her and defended her when Dean got angry. Castiel had compared Meg to him- he had said that she was close to him.

And Castiel was just too damn nice to leave Dean feeling angry and sad. That was why he kissed him. It didn't mean anything- it couldn't have. Dean had been awful- he yelled and accused and degraded Castiel. Why would he have wanted to kiss Dean? It just didn't make sense.

Nothing made sense.

And now Dean was left feeling empty- like half of him had been ripped away. Dean screwed up- _oh, fuck, he screwed up_. Castiel was gone and he wouldn't come back. Not this time, not after this. Dean had his chance and he blew it- just like he fucking ruined everything nice he ever grasped.

Those were the thoughts that kept him awake, swirling through his head as the tingling in his lips lingered- a memoir of something that should have never been.

* * *

**So I hoped you enjoyed this chapter and stuff. It may have seemed a bit rushed, but I promise I tried to drag it out as much as I could without making it unnecessarily wordy.**

**ALSO, I WILL BE TAKING A TWO-THREE WEEK HIATUS ON THIS FIC**

**I need to focus on midterms and all this stuff I have to do for college. Also, taking a break from writing this fic will hopefully help me make better chapters when I do get back to it, since it'll be with a fresh set of eyes and a different persepective.**

**Sidenote: to those of you worried about meg and pamela being props THEYRE NOT. This story actually relates to me personally (I'm kind of like Dean in this situation and my best friend is kinda like Cas). I have plans for Pam and Meg, and they will not be tossed aside and used as "bumps in the road", i can assure you :)**

**Anyways, I hope you guys have a good couple of weeks. Sorry about the break, I just really need it~**

**Thankyou for the amazingly brilliant and kind reviews! The last chapter had such positive feedback, I was shocked! You all blew up my phone with email notifications! Thankyou so soso much for taking the time to read and write such amazing reviews! I wish I could respond to you all personally, but I just want you guys to know that I read them all and that I take your thoughts into mind, and that every review makes me smile. **

**Thank you so much.**

**Goodbye, lovelies!~**


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